A Matter of Trust
by Kirsten Erin
Summary: More Than Blood: Part 3. Five years have passed since How the World Turns. Now Al's pregnant, Jack's in Santa Fe, & Runner's head of the Manhattan newsies. But when trouble comes can the family the newsies have created weather the storm? Family has always been about more than blood for the newsboys, but the bigger the trial, the harder the test of one's loyalties. David/OC.
1. Moody

_**Author's Note: Wow, it's been a crazy couple of weeks, but the release date is finally here! Thank you so much to everyone who has been patiently waiting and eager to read the beginning of the final installment. I hope y'all enjoy every second of it. Also, I think the 'pattern' for this one will be a new chapter every Monday and Friday, at least until I finish writing it. If I manage to get it done pretty soon, I might make the updates come more often. Don't forget to review and let me know what you think of the first chapter of A Matter of Trust.**_

_**Guys, I'm so sorry that this came out so late. I know I promised May 21st and I pulled through in my part of the country (it's 11:27pm). I meant to get this up this morning, but it's been I've been running back and forth all day trying to get things done. So sorry! Thanks for all of your patience, guys!**_

**Chapter 1- Moody**

_~ March 11, 1906~_

Alison Jacobs shifted the weight of the basket that hung from the crook of her right elbow.

"I wish you'd let me carry that for ya," Runner complained. The fifteen year-old stood beside her with a nearly diminished stack of papers sticking out of the side of another basket that swung in his left hand. Al rolled her eyes and placed the apples she had just bought into the basket at his side.

"You're lucky I'm lettin' you hold that one."

"But Al-"

"Keep complainin' an' it'll be back to sellin' papes for you."

"As if you could get the basket from me," he teased as they moved down the booths of the market.

Al rested a hand on her belly, heavily swollen with pregnancy, and threw a playful glare at her younger friend. "So chivalrous."

He tipped his cap and smiled wickedly before setting off toward the next booth. Al followed at a slower pace, keeping an eye out for Les. If she knew anything about her husband, or Runner for that matter, the youngest Jacobs boy ought to be showing his face sometime soon to help her out as well. She shook her head. Ever since she had found out she was pregnant (about six months ago), they had been coddling her as if she might break at any moment. She knew they meant well, but Al wasn't the type to take well to people treating her like china. It was times like these that she missed Racetrack and Jack sorely. They never treated her like she was delicate, even during those times when she was closest to breaking.

David was usually pretty good about not treating her that way, but her pregnancy was a bit of an exception. All bets were off when it came to her health now. This was, in a major way, due to what had happened to Maggie almost two years ago now. Al had spend weeks arguing with David about how Maggie had been sick and Al was both healthy and strong, but all arguments fell on deaf ears. David was constantly on edge and, because of that, Al was counting down the days until she had given birth and he would be back to normal again.

Turning her thoughts away from a topic that would only sadden her, Al gathered her skirt with her free hand and hurried after the newest leader of the Manhattan newsboys.

"Slow down, ya runt!" she called after him. She rolled her eyes and turned down the next street toward the butcher's, knowing Runner would guess where she had headed when he realized she wasn't with them.

She received her usual order at the butcher's and met Runner on her way out.

"To the florist's?" he asked, mimicking the affected voices of the gentlemen he sold papers to on a daily basis. He held out his free arm and she rolled her eyes playfully before taking it with her own.

"To the florist's," she agreed.

The florist was just across the street and the shop was owned by Eugenia Peters, a good friend of Al's. They had met two years ago when she came across the Alantic from Ireland. She had come alone and Racetrack, who happened to work on the ship on which she came over, had taken an immediate liking to her. In fact, that was an understatement. He had fallen head over heels for her long ginger curls and smattered freckles at first sight.

She, on the other hand, had only a passing tolerance of the gambling ex-newsboy. She made that clear from the beginning, but he had been persistent and she, not knowing anyone in this strange new land, had allowed him to introduce her to David and Al. She and Al had taken to each other right off the bat. Now Race no longer pursued her. He made a passing flirty comment to irritate her every now and then when they saw one another (much like what Spot Conlon used to do to Al), and they now had something of a friendship.

The shop bell chimed as Runner and Al stepped indoors. Eugenia (or Genie, as she much preferred to be called) had a quaint little shop. It was rather small, but accommodated her needs and she was thankful for it. It was hard for a woman to make a living on her own, especially in a town so filled to the brim with immigrants who all desperately wanted to make their way toward the American dream.

Genie was pretty easy to spot. Even in the shop filled with colorful flowers, the bright red bun on the back of her head was hard to miss. She wore a long blue apron over a white shirt and brown skirt and the freckles on her face crinkled with her eyes as she smiled at the customer she was currently helping.

While they waited to catch her attention, Al and Runner perused the merchandise. Al had always adored flowers. The had become a frequent source of pleasure for her, particularly when she wasn't allowed to express her feminine side during her time masquerading as a boy at the Lodge. She used to steal flowers when she was younger and keep them in the washroom or near her bed. When she got a bit older and most of the Lodge boys knew her secret, some of them would bring a flower or two home for her so as to keep Kloppman from being suspicious about the particular boy with an affinity for flowers. Once her gender was revealed, she made sure to always keep them in the house, even if that meant snatching a couple of wildflowers from the midst of Central Park or sparing a few pennies for a rose from the flower girl down the street.

Now that Al had grown close to a florist, she made sure to get her flowers from the Irish girl as often as she could afford it. David's job kept them pretty secure, but there certainly wasn't a lot of room for superfluous spending. Still, it was nice to help a friend out and be supplied with a few flowers at the same time. Genie usually gave her a pretty good discount on top of all that.

"Well if it isn't me favorite newsies!" Genie's beautifully Irish accented voice called out once she was done with the customer she had been helping. She hurried over and wrapped each of them in the bear-like hug she was so fond of giving.

"I haven't sold papes in more'n two years," Al reminded her with a lopsided grin reminiscent of the sort her brother generally offered.

"Doesn't mean yer not a newsie anymore. It's in your blood now, just as flowers are in mine," Genie retorted. "Ya even married a newspaper man."

"That mean you're gonna marry a gardenah?" Al quipped.

"Laird bless me, let's hope so."

Al laughed and rolled her eyes at her friend.

"And what're you doin' shirkin' yer responsibilities?" the ginger woman asked, elbowing the boy who stood at least a half foot taller than her.

Runner smiled. "Al needed some 'elp with the shopping."

"Ah, and what a good lad, you are." She smiled and reached up to pat him on the shoulder. For being almost exactly the same age as Al, she tended to address the newsboys in a much more matronly manner. "An' what flowers would ya like today, Ali?"

"I'll take some red tulips for myself an' a couple o' purple irises for Logan."

Genie nodded solemnly. "How's 'e doin'? Anniversary's comin' 'round pretty soon." She moved toward the indicated flowers, quickly forming small bundles with a blur of fingers and string.

Al sighed. "He's always a lil' moody this time o' year, but then we all are. He'll be alright."

Genie finished tying up the knots and threw a smile in Runner's direction. He was sniffing the yellow rose bouquet wrapped in ivy that must have been part of the wedding order Genie had told Al she received a few days ago. "He's growin' like a weed."

"I know," Al responded in a tone of disbelief as she settled the bundles in her basket. "It's odd seein' him as the head of the newsies'n all. He's so different from my bruddah, yet they're so much alike. He'n Les remind me o' Jack so often now I feel like burstin' into tears sometimes."

Genie gave her a sympathetic smile and patted Al's cheek. The former newsie flinched a little when the hand came close, but it didn't phase the Irishwoman. She'd grown used to Al's 'peculiarities' by now. "That'll be the pregnancy's doin'. I know you miss yer brother, though. Heard any more word from 'im?"

"Not since the lettah I showed ya last month, but I oughta be gettin' anothah one soon."

Al handed over the couple of coins she knew she owed her friend, but Genie only accepted a little over half of them. "Let the irises be from the both of us." She gave them both hugs and headed back to the cash register, calling over her shoulder, "You two stay outta trouble now!"

Runner and Al left the florist and made a quick detour to the apartment she and David shared to drop off her purchases. She bade Runner to go ahead and get back to the Lodge while she put everything away, since he was clearly dying to get back to his boys, but he refused. He said he knew she was going to the Lodge and she might need his assistance.

Al rolled her eyes as she arranged the tulips to her liking in the little glass vase Sarah had given her for Christmas. "You've been hangin' 'round Davy too much," she grumbled. Runner chuckled in response.

Still, she picked up her pace and snatched up the irises before following her young friend out the door.

Al and David's apartment was only a few streets away from the Lodge. It wasn't quite as convenient as the old one she had shared with Jack, but it was just a bit bigger and afforded them more privacy from the Lodge boys (who were well-meaning but not exactly accustomed to giving others their own space). President Roosevelt had ended up buying the apartment from the Lavenchis and it was now the quarters of the Lodge owner, Logan Bryant. He had really done well with the place, cleaning out the attic to create a makeshift schoolroom and using Kloppman's old quarters to house even more boys in the Lodge. Things were running nicely and Kloppman even came around every few months to check up on and visit with everyone that was still around.

And not many of the old boys were still around. Most of them had gone off to different jobs in and around New York City, leaving their roots in carrying the banner behind and not bothering to look back. Runner, Listener, Matches, Tumbler, and quite a few of the other boys were still living there, though. And Les frequented the building on an almost daily basis. They and the new recruits had more than enough energy to keep spirits high and papers selling.

Runner held the door open for Al as they reached the Lodge and she was nearly bowled over by some of the younger boys.

"Mama, look!" one of the younger boys cried, holding up a quarter he had somehow acquired during the day. The smaller boys now often referred to Al as "Momma" or "Momma Ali." She had discouraged it at first, but they were insistent and she finally admitted defeat. Besides, it was rather endearing, all in all.

"Good job, Tim," Al smiled gently, rustling the boy's hair. More and more of the boys went by their real names now, though they still received nicknames upon arrival into the newsboy ranks. Newsgirls were also becoming more and more common and they generally stayed at a nearby lodging house for girls, if there was any room for them. Even now two or three girls could be spotted milling about among the boys outside.

Al pushed through the crowd of small ones to get to the stairs, knowing that Logan would be up there somewhere, likely mending another broken pipe or cleaning another mess the boys had set up for him. True to form, she found him bending over the pipes in the washroom with Listener leaning up beside him, doing his best to be of service.

"Heya boys, how's it rollin'?" she asked, sitting herself down on a stool nearby. She may spend most of her time lately defending her ability to function on her own, but she was definitely needing to sit after a long morning of walking. Her watermelon of a stomach was definitely a heavy load.

"Almost done, Cap," Logan told her over his shoulder. He twisted a couple of knobs and told Listener to turn on the faucet. It worked like a dream. Logan gave a satisfied smile and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "I don't know how Kloppman kept this place in runnin' order, 'specially when we were always around to tear it up."

"We weren't nearly as bad as these boys," Al laughed as Listener leaned down to give her a hug. He was getting pretty tall. At fourteen, he had almost caught up to Logan, who had always been known for his height.

Al stood when Logan did. He sent Listener to take the tools they had used down to the utility closet and he scampered off, ever the loyal helper. Logan wrapped Al in a warm hug.

"Belly's gettin' bigger," he commented with a sad smile. Holding her at arm's length and looking down at the belly in question. "When're you due again?"

"'Bout two months, I figure."

"You got a midwife ready?"

"Yeah, Genie's Ma was a midwife and taught her." Al pressed her lips together in annoyance at the concerned look he gave her. "And she's delivered plenty o' babies 'erself."

"And how're you feelin' lately?"

"Skittery," Al laid a hand on her old friend's shoulder. He hardly went by that name any more, but Al still used it at times, especially when she could see he was all worked up. "I'm fine, I promise. Stop worrying." She kept her voice soft and low. After all, how could she be upset with him for coddling her after what had happened to Mags? Honestly, that was why all the older newsboys and her friends had been treating her like china since the news that she was pregnant. But Maggie had been sick and, as Al kept reminding them, she was healthy and strong.

"Where is little Margaret, anyway?"

"I'm right here, Aunt Ali!"

Al turned and saw the little blonde girl with curls to rival those of her father piled atop her head. Her little hands were on her hips and her dark brown eyes were gleaming with an obstinate look that immediately faded upon seeing the flowers in the older woman's hand.

"Ooh, pretty," she cooed, coming up to get a closer look.

Her father picked her up and put the girl on one hip. She reached out to touch the flowers and giggled when she made contact. Al pulled one of the irises free and handed it to the little girl. She beamed in response.

"Those were ya momma's favorite," Al explained to the little girl. Margaret nodded and begged to be put down. The second her feet hit the floor, she was running for the stairs, eagerly yelling about her new prize. Al turned toward her friend. "The rest are for you," she told him lamely, feeling her heart ache at the pain in Logan's eyes.

"Thanks," he told her hoarsely. He stared at the flowers forlornly for a few seconds and then dropped his hand, as if forcibly removing them from his line of sight.

It had only been three years since Maggie's passing. She and Skittery (or Logan, as he had started being called around that time) had enjoyed nearly one full year of marriage before the realization that she was pregnant. They had been so excited. Skittery had been eager to tell everyone they knew, sending letters to every friend that had moved away and eagerly reminding each of his friends that were still around that he was a father now. Al had never seen him smile so big for anything else, barring his wedding day.

During those early stages of her pregnancy, Maggie had a glow about her that made her even more beautiful than she already was. But around the end of her second trimester, she started to get sick. The warning signs started innocently enough. Maggie was more tired than usual and had to take more breaks; she developed a cough. Being the first among their friends to get pregnant, no one was too concerned. Granted, Maggie's mother was a tad worried, but she didn't want to scare the mother-to-be and kept any of her concerns to herself.

It wasn't until the third trimester was underway that Maggie got really sick. The coughing grew more intense, sometimes producing blood, and she started having pain in her stomach. Al had convinced them to call a doctor, promising that she and David would take care of the bill. She took a turn for the worse and the fear of God struck all of their hearts. Logan did his best to keep her healthy and she was confined to bed rest.

During that time, Al and Racetrack took care of everything with the Lodge. He quit his job as a cook at Tibby's and slept in his old bunk for a few weeks while Al made the trek over every morning, often staying until the wee hours of the night in order to make sure everything was taken care of. Those were the days when David was still rather new in the newspaper industry and would also be working late into the night. He would drop by the Lodge to pick up his wife, rubbing at his eyes and yawning up a storm, and was often found sleeping on the couch in the front hall waiting for her to be done with whatever business she had been caught up doing.

Then she went into labor unexpectedly. She was so weak. Logan, her mother, and Al were the only ones in the room besides the midwife. The labor was long and they had all been so proud of Maggie for her dedication to pulling through this. Al had never seen someone so weak, yet so strong. When the baby was finally born, tears of joy poured from her eyes when the girl was placed in her mother's arms.

"She's so beautiful," she had whispered, her face pale and drained of blood.

Logan was beside her, his hand trembling as he pushed her sweaty locks of hair out of her face. "She is," he agreed.

She passed a few seconds later, the baby in one arm and the other hand gently holding Logan's. The baby was screaming almost immediately. Her grandmother swept her into her arms as Logan held his wife's face, sobbing as he begged her to come back to him. The midwife had turned to the grandmother to explain how the baby needed to be fed while Al went to Skittery's side, tears streaming down her own face as she struggled to calm her longtime friend and keep herself from the reality of the having lost a dear friend.

Even now as she remembered it, she felt tears doing their best to surface and she blinked them away.

"Genie says they're from her too."

"Give 'er my thanks."

_**Disclaimer: Al, Runner, Genie, the Lavenchis Matches, Listener, Maggie (the mother), and Margaret (the daughter) are all property of Kirsten Erin. The rest are all original Newsies characters**_


	2. Freckles

_**Author's Note: I decided I would make up for the late upload of the last chapter by doing a midnight upload for this one. Well, sorta midnight. Anyway, thanks for all the wonderful reviews! I'm glad y'all are all still so interested in my little brainchild over here. I love writing it and it's great seeing readers really appreciate it. So thank you natalieblack2, Ealasaid Una, autumnamberleaves, JacobsConlonBrooklynNewsie, woundedhearts, destaaa246, and Rachel for reviewing and encouraging me to continue and keep working at this.**_

**Chapter 2- Freckles**

_Everybody hurts some days  
It's okay to be afraid  
Everybody hurts, everybody screams  
Everybody feels this way  
And that's okay  
So many questions, so much on my mind  
So many answers I can't find  
~Everybody Hurts: Avril Lavigne~_

Al stayed at the Lodge until about four in the afternoon. By then, Margaret was down for her nap and Les had arrived just a few hours ago to hang out with his longtime best friend, Runner, as was his usual habit. Often, he would stay until dinner and then head over to the apartment Al and David shared for a quick meal. It was closer than his parents' place and he could get away with staying out with his friends longer because of it.

As she prepared to head home, Al questioned whether she ought to expect him at dinner that night.

"Naw," he answered. "Ma's makin' my favorite tonight. I think I'll head back there."

"Suit yourself," she answered with a stifled yawn. "I'm gonna go get dinner ready for your bruddah. Tell Sarah she needs to come visit me. I haven't seen 'er in a more'n two weeks now. I miss 'er."

"Will do, Al," he answered. Then turned to two other boys brawling near the stairs, "Oi! You two cut it out 'fore I make you!"

Shaking her head in amusement, Al stepped through the doorway and down the front steps of the Lodge, almost running headlong into a tough little boy around twelve years old by the looks of it.

"Hey, watch it, lady!"

She raised an eyebrow and gave him a stern look as he eyed the doorway she was blocking. "Excuse you," she huffed, looking him over. She didn't recognize him as one of the usual Lodge tenants. Anyway, most of them knew better than to mess with her. None of them wanted to have to admit to being beat up by a pregnant woman. "Who're you?"

"Look, lady-"

"Learn some respect, Speedy," Runner growled from the doorway. "That's Cap Kelly you're talkin' to there."

Speedy's eyes widened momentarily then returned back to their disdainful look. "I got a message for ya, Runner."

Runner nodded and jerked his head toward the entryway to the Lodge. Speedy sidestepped Al and went indoors as Runner gave her an apologetic look. "From Brooklyn," he muttered by way of explanation and disappeared after the younger boy.

Al shook her head and headed home. Brooklyn had always been disrespectful and she wasn't surprised, half of Manhattan was just as bad anyway. Still, she couldn't help but wonder what the birdie had to say to the leader of the Manhattan newsboys. She hoped it wasn't anything bad. Runner had been hinting lately that he was starting to have trouble with the neighboring borough and its leader.

Where Racetrack had lead the newsboys for a year or two between Jack's departure and Runner's taking of the reins, the new "King of Brooklyn" had started leading boys the moment Spot had stepped down. Jett viewed Runner as a rookie and clearly didn't think he was up to par, but Runner had proved him wrong on every occasion and Al was certain he would manage to continue doing so. Al had yet to meet this kid, but she already knew she didn't like him. His temper was about the only thing he shared with Spot. He kept a loose leash on his boys and delighted in their ability to stir up trouble.

It only took her a few minutes to get home. She took her key from its hiding spot (a barely noticeable crack in the doorframe that was just large enough to admit it) and stepped into her home.

Al loved the home she and David shared. It was the biggest place she had ever called her own and the smallest place David had ever lived in, but they were both immensely proud of it and had done their best to make it home in these past few years.

When she walked in the door, the living room was on her left, just big enough to fit the dark green couch that had been the only item in the apartment left by its former tenants and two chairs that sat across from it (the bright red one being from Medda and the black one from Denton). Beyond that was the kitchen and a table that could fit six people (eight or more if they could borrow chairs from the neighbors). To her right was a short hallway that ended in a closet. On the left was David and Al's room while the bedroom formerly used for guests, now set aside for the baby, was across from it.

David had been especially proud at being able to afford the extra bedroom when they had chosen this apartment, but after about two years had passed without a baby to speak of, the bedroom had become merely a reminder of exactly what they worried they would never have. The room was back to being a happy addition to their home as they eagerly awaited the arrival of the newest member of their family.

Still, even as she rid herself of her shoes, Al thought the door looked rather ominous. It was like a physical manifestation of the change that was about to occur in her life. Then again, so was her enlarged midsection. She sighed and shook her head, making her way toward the kitchen.

If she were honest with herself, Al would have to admit that she was rather terrified at the prospect of being a mother. It wasn't that she was afraid of the responsibility or the changes that she would have to make to accommodate the new baby, but that she was scared that she wouldn't be up to task. She was excited and petrified all at once and every time that someone mentioned the new baby and it's coming arrival, she would have flashbacks of her own mother. What if they were really the same? What if she treated her child the way her mother had treated her and Jack?

She couldn't bear the thought and so she threw herself into the making of their dinner that night.

* * *

"What did _he_ want?" Les asked as Speedy ran off and Runner stood watching him go. Les had a sour look on his face as he stood beside him.

"Just Jett complainin' about our boys getting too close to his territory again," Runner answered, shaking his head.

"Who do ya have on the Bridge this week?" he asked.

"Listener."

"Oh, he's the least likely to be leaving his side," Les commented with a roll of his eyes. "You'd think Jett'd be better at makin' up complaints by now." Runner had taken to alternating between a couple of the older boys to sell on the Brooklyn Bridge. Back in Jack's day running the Manhattan boys, the Bridge was neutral territory. It didn't really matter who sold on it as long as they made nice with any other newsboys that came their way. But after more than a few scuffles between Jett's boys and Runner's own, they had come to the conclusion that they would have to split the Bridge. The easiest way to do that was to split it lengthwise. When facing the Bridge, each borough gets the side on their right. That way there was plenty of buffer between one borough and the other other.

"You'd think."

Les lit up a cigarette, seeing as the two were standing on the front porch and not actually inside the Lodge, and puffed at it for a moment. As usual, he offered to share, but Runner had never taken to the taste of tobacco and didn't see the appeal. He liked the smell well enough and the way it looked, but that was all he liked about it. He refrained. "You wanna come over for dinnah tonight? Momma's makin' chicken pot pie and Sarah promised to help, which means no peas."

Runner smiled. "Naw, I'll stay here tonight. Tell your family I said hey, alright?"

"Alright. See ya tomorrow afternoon."

Les started off down the street and Runner decide it was a good time for a walk, so he took off in the opposite direction. He headed toward Brooklyn, wanting to lay eyes on the site that had Jett all up in a tizzy.

It was ridiculous, Runner decided, that there was so much strife over territory lately. The boundaries of the boroughs had been set longer than any of the newsboys had been alive. Why couldn't each be happy with what they had, rather than trying to push it? Runner didn't see the appeal. He loved Manhattan. It was his home. He would protect his turf with his entire being, but he wouldn't push to increase it. Brooklyn was as much Jett and his boys' home as Manhattan was Runner's.

The boy lifted his cap and ran a hand through his blonde hair, pushing the strands that had been getting in his face back before dropping his cap back down on his head. He knew the only reason Jett was complaining about the Bridge was because he was trying to hone in on Runner's territory. If there was anything Runner wouldn't put up with, it was people coming into his home uninvited. His jaw stiffened even as he thought about it. Strange men had come into his home when he was a child and taken his mother from him. He wouldn't ever let anyone invade what was his ever again.

"Runner!"

At the sound of his name, he turned to see Les coming up behind him in a slight jog, an irritated look still firmly fixed on his face. Runner suspected that last bit was now because he'd had to chase his leader down.

"Yeah?"

Les waited until he had drawn up beside him to spit out whatever it was that was on his mind.

"I forgot to ask. Sarah wanted to know if there was anything the boys needed like sheets or pants'n stuff. I figure you'd know bettah than Logan, ya know since lil' Maggie's birthday is comin' up."

Runner continued walking with his best friend at his side, racking his brain for the information he needed. Sarah had started using some of her money from her factory job to start making the boys clothes and blankets ever since David had moved out and their dad didn't have to borrow from his kids to keep them fed. She didn't visit nearly as often as Al, but she came every few weeks and was always a welcome sight for all of them.

The Bridge came in sight and Runner slowed as he listed the needs of the Manhattan newsboys. "King's nearly grown outta his pants an' they're all patches now anyway. Bug got his shirt torn right down the side in that fight the othah day. Al used some safety pins to make it wearable again, but he's gonna need a replacement soon. Gin'n Scotch need new breeches too."

Les closed an eye as he recited back the names, "King, Gin, an' Scotch need pants. Bug needs a shirt. Anythin' else?"

"Well, I-" Runner stopped when his eye landed on the figure of a girl running on the Brooklyn Bridge. She was booking it like a woman on a mission and Runner furrowed his brow, wondering at the cause, until he spotted the pack of Brooklynite newsboys hot on her tail.

Runner and Les were still a ways off from the bridge and both stopped in their tracks to watch the spectacle before them. The girl had long brown hair, only a few shades lighter than Al's, and it wasn't hard to tell that she had been living on the streets a while. Her dress was dirty and torn at the hem, but looked like she had kept it as well as possible. Her head swiveled to get a look at how close her pursuers were and she stumbled and hit the ground, rolling a few times before skidding to a halt.

It was at that point that the boys were spurred into action. Before, they had been frozen in a sort of stunned state brought on by morbid fascination, but they saw their chance to help someone in need now and were moving in a matter of seconds.

The girl sprung up as fast as she could and faced the one in the lead, clearly ready to fight. She didn't look like much, but it was abundantly clear that she wasn't about to give up without a fight. But by the time the first swing was thrown, it was also abundantly clear that she had no clue as to the _execution_ of a good fight.

She grappled with the first boy, who had tried to grab at her hair and she held his arms away from her as best she could while kicking at his shins.

Beside him, Runner saw Les yank his slingshot out of the back of his pants and felt a wave of relief wash over him. He turned his gaze back toward the girl and saw that the first boy had retreated a few steps, but another was coming at her from one side while a third crept around the other side to get her from behind. She took a nasty punch to the side and the boy got behind her and wrapped his arms around her, pinning her arms to her body.

She let out a blood-curdling scream just as the first marble made contact with the head of the boy who had thrown the punch. He stumbled and grabbed at his head before spinning around. It was then that the second marble hit the hand of the one holding the girl. Her captor released her immediately, jumping backward, and since she had been kicking out at everyone around her, she hit the ground on her rear.

It was seconds later that Runner crashed into one of them. He tackled him, using his momentum to send the boy sprawling. He skidded along the ground, carrying both his own and Runner's weight. The Manhattan newsie didn't envy the road rash he was going to have when he woke up.

Les was swinging at the girl's former captor, so Runner took that opportunity to get the girl out of danger. He moved over next to her and clutched her arm to help pull her up. Before he knew what was happening, though, she had dug her nails into the back of his hand and produce long half-inch wide scrapes all the way down his left hand. He yanked his hand away in pain.

"What the hell? We're tryin' to help you!" he yelled, more out of shock than actual anger.

The girl bared her teeth and narrowed her eyes. For a moment, Runner thought she might be a loony escaped from the asylum or something. He had never seen a girl act like that before. A moment later, her expression softened a bit and she jumped to her feet with a curt nod.

Runner understood this to mean that she didn't trust him, but she knew he was her escape at the moment and would do as he said. He appreciated that. Pulling her behind him, he hit one of the guys who had decided to come back for more, his fist landing right on his opponent's left cheek bone. Les was beside him in an instant and the total of four boys who had been chasing the girl stood a few feet opposite of them, glaring daggers and grabbing at their wounds.

"What's the big idea?" Runner growled, leveling a glare at each of the Brooklyn boys in front of them. "Ya think you can come ovah here on my toif an' treat a lady the way you was just treatin' 'er?"

"That bitch ain't no lady," the blonde on Runner's left spat. He recognized the boy as the one that had first reached the girl.

Runner took a threatening step toward him and the kid flinched. "I don't wanna hear it. This is Manhattan territory. You'n your boys aren't welcome 'ere."

The pack of newsboys glared as if they'd like nothing better than to rip the three of them to shreds and throw the remains in the river.

"Oi, you heard 'im! Get outta here 'fore we make you leave." Les scowled as the boys trudged back to their side of the Bridge, tossing plenty of dirty looks as they took their time. They waited until the Brooklynites were well out of sight before rounding on the girl they had just saved.

"You alright?" Les asked, reaching out to lay a hand on her shoulder. She flinched away and nodded.

"You got a name?" Runner asked, tilting his head to the side to get a good look at her. She looked dirtier up close, but even the mess couldn't hid the freckles that were smattered across her nose and cheeks. Her long brown hair was matted and her chin was scraped from the fall she had just taken. She narrowed her eyes at him, clearly refusing to answer.

"Can you speak?" Les asked, this time a bit more concerned.

"Of course I can speak," she answered, looking irritated this time.

"You're _welcome_," Les answered back, his tone dripping with sarcasm and colored with offense at her rudeness.

"I could've taken care of it," she mumbled.

Runner did his best to suppress the disbelieving grin. Les didn't do so well at keeping himself from snorting, but the former guessed his friend hadn't tried to hard in the first place. The girl's glare grew harder toward Les.

"Why were they aftah you?"

"They saw someone weaker'n themselves and saw the opportunity to prove they were strongah," she answered with a shrugged, looking down to inspect the scrapes that had formed on her arms, also a likely product of her fall earlier.

Runner nodded. "You alright now? Want us to walk you home?"

"I ain't got a home," she snapped. "So, no, I'll be fine."

She started to walk away when Runner called out, "Do you need somewhere to stay?"

The girl didn't pause in her steps. "I'm not a whore."

"That's not what I meant." Runner jogged up beside her, careful not to touch her. He didn't want another bleeding hand. Les followed closely behind. "I have a friend, a girl, who'll prolly let you stay at her place."

"No thanks."

This time Les chimed in, piggybacking on Runner's train of thought. "Yeah, she's my sister-in-law. She's really nice. You'll like her, I promise. She'll feed ya at the very least."

Runner saw the girl's determined expression falter slightly and knew he just had to push a little further. "She's like a mother to me, or a big sistah. A little o' both. Lived on the street for a while, too. Knows what it's like to be hungry."

The girl slowed to a stop and looked at him for a long moment, then her gaze went to Les. Finally, she spoke again.

"You ain't pulling' any funny business now?"

"Swear on my honah," Runner responded seriously.

"That ain't much, but I guess it's all I got," she answered, almost to herself. "Alright, but I wanna see this goil 'fore I walk in any doors. I don't know you's two from Adam."

"That's fair," Runner shrugged.

She sighed. "Lead the way."

As they fell in step back toward Al and David's apartment, Les squinted at the girl for a good few seconds before declaring, "I'll call you Freckles."

_**Disclaimer: Speedy, Jett, King, Gin, Scotch, and Freckles are mine all mine**_


	3. Trust

_**Author's Note: So much drama going on in my life right now, it's a bit ridiculous. It's times like these when I'm glad that I read and write so much. In writing especially, I have a world I can control where nothing unexpected happens and people I care about don't disappoint me. Sorry, I guess I'm being melodramatic, but it's true. There's something wonderful about getting to create a story and world of my own and it cheers me up every time. There's nothing quite like it. :)  
A bajillion thanks to JacobsConlonBrooklynNewsie, natalieblack2, autumnamberleaves, Ealasaid Una, and The Broadway newsie, whose reviews have made this week a little bit brighter and put a smile on my face even when it got a little rough. Keep it up, y'all. Your input means a lot to me!**_

**Chapter 3- Trust**

_Won't you take me by the hand  
__Take me somewhere new  
__I don't know who you are, but I  
__I'm with you  
__Why is everything so confusing?  
__Maybe I'm just out of my mind  
__~I'm With You: Avril Lavigne~_

With a sigh, Jenna followed the two boys who had saved her from the gang of Brooklyn newsboys. She wasn't sure if the two were gang members or newsboys or something, but she was definitely wary. In her experience, people usually did nice things for the purpose of getting something back and she didn't mind paying back a favor, but that didn't mean she was game for just anything. She didn't know these boys and they may have just 'saved' her so they could use her for their own gain.

_Trust no one_.

It was a lesson she had learned at an early age - and it wasn't one she was likely to forget any time soon.

She studied the boys in front of her as she walked. They looked about the same age, though the one on the left was taller. His hair was a blonde-brown with a little bit of curl in it and he kept glancing back at her with curiosity. He seemed to be the more outspoken one, persistent in trying to engage her in conversation, while the other had an air of quiet confidence about him. He seemed the leader type from the beginning and she wasn't surprised when his friend let it slip that he was leader of the Manhattan newsies a few minutes later. It certainly made his former statement about territory make a hell of a lot more sense.

The trio turned another corner before stopping in front of an apartment building.

"Al lives on the fourth level," the one who had introduced himself as Les explained. "I'll run up and get 'er to come down an' meet ya first."

"Al?" Jenna asked, taking a step back. "You said this was a woman."

"Her name's Alison," Runner amended without batting a lash. He didn't seem to be lying. She nodded and moved back to where she had been.

Les seemed to wait a moment, as if unsure whether she was going to run off, then headed inside and presumably up the stairs.

In the meantime, Runner and Jenna stood together, waiting in silence. Jenna shuffled her feet, feeling awkward, and still somewhat concerned that she was being conned here. This kid looked honest enough, but she had learned the hard way that the bad guys don't always look so bad.

"You got a real name?" she asked and nearly winced at the abrasiveness she realized was in her tone. She tried to soften it. "I mean, othah than 'Runner'."

"Not that I remembah," Runner shrugged. "Been called Runner since I was a kid and the newsies found me wanderin' the streets." He paused, picking at the dirt under his nails, before looking back toward her. "Al was actually the one who found me. She'n her brothah. We've always been pretty close."

Jenna nodded, filing away this information for the future. The obvious next question was to ask what had put him on the street in the first place, but something told Jenna that he wasn't going to tell her any more personal information. She couldn't blame him, of course. Both he and Les had refrained from asking what put her on the street, though she could tell they likely were wondering exactly that. It certainly wasn't information that she was about to offer up to just anyone.

The two stood in comfortable silence until Les came down.

He stepped out of the building, holding the door open for the woman behind him and announced, "Freckles: Al. Al, this is Freckles."

The first thing that registered with Jenna about this woman was that she was heavily pregnant. The second was that she looked almost nothing like Les. She supposed she should have realized that they were only related by marriage and therefore wouldn't have a resemblance to one another, but it still surprised her. This woman was much shorter than both the boys and stood about the same height as Jenna herself. She had dark brown hair, almost black, that was pulled back into a braid that reached the middle of her back and her eyes were a clear green. She had a light scar, hardly noticeable, that ran from her left ear all the way down to her chin. In fact, Jenna wouldn't have even noticed it if she hadn't been looking for distinguishing features, as she often did when meeting strangers. She guessed that the woman couldn't be more than ten years her senior.

She wore a green apron that had some sort of red sauce spilled across it over a blue dress.

Al moved forward and held out a hand. "Alison Jacobs. Call me Al."

"Jenna."

"So she _does _have a name!" Les received an elbow to the gut from his friend and an eye roll from his sister-in-law.

"Les tells me you're in need of a good meal?"

Jenna merely nodded.

"Dinner's almost ready an' my husband'll be home any minute now. You're welcome to join us." She turned to Runner. "You staying? We've got plenty."

He seemed to deliberate for the moment and Jenna found herself holding her breath in hopes that he would acquiesce. She really didn't know him much better than this Al woman or her husband, but for some reason she felt that she would be more comfortable with him there.

"Sure," he finally shrugged."I s'pose the boys can do without me for a couple hours.

* * *

Al turned to go inside, beckoning for the two teens to follow her into the house. She was glad that the boys had brought the girl to her. She seemed like she needed some help and Al was always glad to offer some. It was one of those moments where she really felt grown up. She really wasn't much older than the two, but the fact that they were looking up to her made her feel more like an adult than usual. And that was a nice feeling, especially when so many of David's coworkers and their wives made her feel like a child.

Being pregnant also helped, though. There was nothing like carrying a baby in her belly to remind her that things certainly had changed in the past five years.

She made her way up the stairs as quickly as her enlarged stomach would allow her to move and led the way through her front door, immediately hurrying to the kitchen to check on the spaghetti sauce she had left on the stove.

"Make yourself at home, Jenna!" Al called over her shoulder. "Runner would ya set the table for me?"

"Sure thing," he responded, not far behind her.

She took the pan off the stove and mixed the sauce with the noodles, silently thanking Racetrack once again for teaching her how to make the dish.

As if reading her mind, Runner spoke up, "When does Racetrack's ship get back?"

"Not sure," Al answered as she stirred. "Should be in the next few days, though."

Runner nodded. "Feels like he's been gone forever."

"Just a couple o' weeks," Al answered, though she had to admit that it felt the same to her. She took the bowls Runner offered her and was about to start serving up the spaghetti when she caught sight of the gashes in his hand, still bleeding. "My God, Runner. What happened?" she set the bowls down and grabbed his hand. Jenna peeked around the corner from the living room where she had been seated.

Runner rolled his eyes, "I got scratched. It ain't a big deal."

Al huffed and dragged him over to the sink. "It could become a big deal if ya don't wash it out and wrap it," she reprimanded. "Go on. Wash it. I'll wrap it when you're done." She went back to the sink, muttering about stupid boys and their inability to think properly.

It was at that point that the front door opened and Jenna jumped about three feet in the air in reaction. Al called out, "Come on, hon. You're just in time. Runner's here an' 'e brought a guest."

David stepped in behind Jenna and shook her hand when she turned toward him. "Runner, I didn't know you had a lady friend," he winked at the younger boy.

Runner's face urned a deep shade of red and Al burst out laughing. She wiped her hands on her apron, just in case, and moved toward her husband. "They saved 'er from Brooklyn today. Apparently, Jett's boys're gettin' rowdier than we thought." She stood up on her toes to kiss him; he bent down and met her halfway.

Then Al turned to Jenna. "Speakin' of washin' up, you needa do the same. That scrape on your chin ain't gonna clean itself." She jerked her head toward Runner and the girl did as she was told.

David sighed and tugged at his ear. The old habit hadn't died with time and Al smiled as she recognized it. It took her back to when they first met, when they had no idea what was in store for them. Now David was her husband and the father of her unborn child. He was strong, handsome, and loving. He had come a long way in the last five years - becoming the man he had always longed to be, and exactly the man Al had always known he could become.

"That's not good," he finally answered in response to her statement about Brooklyn.

"No kiddin'. Anyway, she's joinin' us for dinnah. An' I think she'll need a place to stay the night, though she hasn't come out an' said it yet."

"You know that's fine with me," David answered, pulling her into a hug and dropping a kiss on her forehead. "By the way, Denton says 'Hi'."

Al grinned and turned, moving back toward the food. "Alright, enough chitchat," she called out to the three of them. "I'm starved. Let's eat."

Dinner was delicious and exactly what Al had hoped. The girl Runner had saved was almost completely silent while they ate, but was clearly listening intently to every word that was spoken. Most of it was about Brooklyn and their growing nuisance. David and Al want to hear all about the way the newsboys were planning on dealing with them and were eager to offer their own advice to their younger friend.

When dinner was finished and the dishes put up, Al offered Jenna the guest bedroom. At first, she declined. Al could see in the girl's eyes that she didn't trust them and Al honestly couldn't blame her. It wasn't until Al brought up the fact that the door had a lock that she perked up. It didn't take much after that and now David was walking Runner back to the Lodge while Al helped set the girl up in her room for the night.

Al brought in an extra blanket. "It's been pretty cold at night, so you might need a second one," she explained setting it down on the bed. Jenna was clad in one of the nightgowns Al had offered her after having taken a bath. It was clear that the girl hadn't been clean in ages and Al was glad to be of service in that manner. Now the girl sat on the bed, brushing out her lengthy dark hair that had long grown accustomed to being tangled.

"I'll wash your clothes in the morning. In the meantime, here are some of mine from before I got pregnant." Al yawned as she stood in the doorway. "You're welcome here as long as you need. Let me know if you need anything else, okay?"

She started to step away from the door when Jenna's voice stopped her. "You aren't worried I'm gonna steal somethin'?"

"There ain't much here to steal," Al answered as site turned back to the girl. "I'm not worried."

"People don't just let random street kids into their houses for the night," Jenna told her, her eyes blazing with an emotion that Al couldn't quite place.

Al shrugged, "Well I do."

When Al woke the next morning, she was exhausted. She was getting to the point in her pregnancy where it was hard to find any way to lay comfortably and that fact kept her up most of the night. She had always been a notoriously light sleeper and discomfort helped little. David slept on beside her. He, in contrast, slept like a rock for the most part. Unless someone was crying, screaming, or hitting him, he wasn't likely to wake until his body was good and ready to do so.

Al slid out of bed and made her way to the kitchen, hoping she could get a little food in her stomach before their young tenant awoke. She was well aware of her own moodiness in the morning, especially when lack of sleep was factored in, and didn't want to scare off the girl. She scrambled enough eggs to feed all three of them and spooned out the proportions on each plate, then placed the ones for Jenna and David in the oven. She noticed that one of the wooden chairs was missing from its usual place at the table and wondered at its absence before she moved toward the stack of envelopes on the counter.

Al grabbed the mail and sat at the table as she went through it. As much as she enjoyed receiving mail, it often took her a few days to actually go through it. Now seems like the perfect time. She poured over it and found the two she had hoped would come this week. She smiled broadly, squealing inwardly as she shoveled in another bite of egg.

She opened the one that had been postmarked first with eager fingers.

_Hey Al,_

_As usual, Blink, hannah, Ron, and Rachel say hi. I hope things are still going good with the pregnancy. I know you said your irritated about the guys treating you like your gonna break, but it'll be over soon enough anyway. Got any ideas for names? I'm thinking james if it's a boy and Jamie if it's a girl. You know, that way they're named after me either way._

_Good news! Blink's taking a girl out tomorrow night. Hannah and I been soon worried that he would never get over what he did. You know, he's glad he did it too. Glad he kept you safe. But he still feels guilty bout it. Guess he thinks he's too bad to look for a girl. Ya know? It's good to see him trying again. I know he doesn't right back much, but he still loves getting letters from you. He hangs them up in his apartment every time he gets one and rereads it a bunch of times until the next one comes. Then he saves them in a drawer in his room. Hannah says she rarely sees him as happy as when he spots your letter in the mail. Says his eyes light up._

_The twins are doing great. There third birthday is coming up and there really excited about it. Rachel keeps telling everyone it's her birthday. Every morning she wakes up and yells happy birthday! It's real funny. She and ron look just alike. Got their mom's waves and my color. Got her eyes too, though she and blink say they look more like me. I dunno if that's true or not. _

_I wish you could see them and meet hannah. I hope we'll get to come visit New York one day or you and David get to come out here. I'm gonna try to send you a pitcher of us all soon, if I can. Moneys tight around here. Ain't it always, though? I'll even try to get Blink to pose for it too. Where's Denton when you need him?_

_Well, I know this letter is kinda short, but I don't got much time to right lately. The water is leaking in our apartment and Blink just got here to help me come fix it. I gotta rescue him from Ron and rachel or I'll never get any help from him. There crazy about uncle Blink._

_Hope everything's good. Tell everyone we love them._

_- Mush _

Al grinned at the piece of paper in her hand as she folded it up and placed it back in the envelope, setting it aside for her husband to read. She would have to write back later in the day when she got the chance. Glancing down at the second letter, it was all she could do to calmly pick it up and open it instead of tearing into it. It was ridiculous how much she missed her brother.

_Hey sis,_

_I think your wrong. Clearly you can understand me fine. I don't have to change the way I write if I don't want too. All those rules get on my nerves. If you wanna have Davy teach you how to write like a hoity-toity reporter, then you do that. But I'm gonna write the way I want._

_I just reread that and I sound like a jerk. I mean it nice, ya know._

_Anyway, things are going great down here. The horse ranch is doing good and half our mares is pregnant. A couple have already given birth and there's plenty more of that to keep us busy for a while. Lemme tell you, Al. Horse births are pretty nasty when you gotta get involved, but it's worth it to see them colts. Colts are about the cutest babies in the world. Much better than real babies, since they don't barf on you or scream and they can walk soon as they're born. There a whole lotta fun._

_Anyway, I got something to tell you._

_I'm coming back to Manhattan._

_Don't freak out on me or nothing. Ain't no trouble or anything down here. Jim and his wife are gonna take over and watch the ranch for me while I'm gone. I don't know how long I'll stay, but I figured it was about time I com see my baby sister and my future niece or nefew. I haven't got the tickets yet, but I should be up there by the end of March. Depends on how it all works out. Just wanted to give you a heads up. Oh, and I'm bringing a surprise._

_And don't worry, I can stay in the Lodge if there isn't any room for me or call up a favor from someone else._

_I was gonna ask some questions about the boys and Davy, but I guess I won't get the letter back in time. I guess I can ask you when I get back._

_I love you, Ali. Tell Davy I say hi and tell Skittery not to be so sad. I know the anniversery of Maggie's death is coming up._

_-Jack_

_**Disclaimer: Like I said before, Jenna (aka. Freckles) is my property. Hannah, Ron, Rachel, and Jim are too. Oh, and the grammar/spelling in the letters are entirely intentional, in case you were a tad concerned. Jack and Mush have grown up doing quite a lot of reading via the papers, but it's highly unlikely anyone has ever taught them the finer points of grammar.**  
_


	4. Ribbons

_**Author's Note: I hope y'all are enjoying the story so far. I truly am. I wish I were further in writing it than I am right now, but I'm otherwise extremely happy with it. I hope y'all are too!  
Thank you autumnamberleaves, Ealasaid Una, JacobsConlonBrooklynNewsie, natalieblack2, Rachel, and destaaa246 for your absolutely wonderful reviews. Keep sending in your feedback. It never ceases to make me smile. :)**_

**Chapter 4- Ribbons**

___I am not afraid to keep on living  
I am not afraid to walk this world alone  
Honey, if you stay, I'll be forgiving  
Nothing you can say can stop be going home  
~Famous Last Words: My Chemical Romance~_  


Al's hand was fixed firmly over her mouth as she struggled to contain her scream of joy. She stared at the paper in her hands in disbelief. Four years. It had been four years since she had laid eyes on her brother and now he was coming home. She could hardly bear her excitement.

Jack had left only a week after her wedding. One day he was there and the next he wasn't. Al was inconsolable for nearly a week afterward. She had always expected her brother to go ahead and pack up for Santa Fe at some point, and even though she knew he wasn't much for goodbyes, she had always expected him to at least say goodbye to her.

So half of her had believed he had left and the other half searched up and down the streets for days, terrified she would find his corpse in the next alleyway, having been stabbed or beaten to death. It was a viable possibility in a big city and the more Al worried, the more panicky she became. After all, her brother knew her policy about the newsboys coming to her when they left at the very least.

_He would have told me_, she had recited like it was a mantra that would bring him back to her. _He would have told me._

It had taken a week and a half after his departure for the letter to arrive. Al had read the message and laid her head in her hands to cry. David had rubbed circles on her back until she stopped. That was when she started breaking things. She had been so angry at Jack for scaring her so badly that she had gone on a sort of rampage, screaming about what a bastard her brother was and that he had a lot of nerve writing to her and expecting her to be happy for him. It had taken David a good half hour and a few cigarettes to calm her down.

Al almost smiled when she thought back to it. Poor David - having to deal with a half-crazy new bride for the first couple weeks of their marriage.

The first letter in response had been one where she lashed out at her brother with everything in her. She had been so _angry_. Of course, she didn't realize that David had already responded in another letter, reprimanding his friend for being stupid but also warning him about how distraught Al had been and that his first letter from her was likely to be a doozie.

After a few weeks had passed, though, Al forgave him and they started exchanging letters as often as possible. Al looked forward to each new letter from her brother with special delight.

Now he was coming back.

Al could hardly contain herself, so she shuffled back to her bedroom and got on her knees on her side of the bed so that she was hovering over David.

"Wake up," she cried, shaking him awake with both hands. "Wake up, Davy! Wake up!"

David groaned and opened his eyes. He saw the grin on her face and furrowed his brow for a moment before shooting upright and nearly knocking heads with her.

"Is it the baby? Do I needa call Genie? S'it time? It's too early!" His words were slurred with sleep and there was both excitement and terror in his eyes.

Al laughed and grabbed at his shoulders so he would stay seated and not start running to find his loafers.

"Jack's coming home!" she squealed. "Jack's coming home!"

"What?" David tugged at his ear and looked confused.

"JACK!" she slammed into her husband to give him an excited hug and nearly knocked the both of them off their shared bed.

David caught her and laughed. "Well, it's about time."

He sat up and helped her maneuver her way out of bed without falling out of it. She beamed up at him and gave him a long kiss.

"You taste like eggs," he pointed out as he pulled away.

"Better than morning breath," she teased.

* * *

Jenna woke to the sound of Al squealing in the other room about something or other and she slid out of bed, running her hands through her hair in an attempt to comb out the tangles. She was surprised at how well she had slept. She had expected to be up most of the night, the way she often was any time she had to sleep in a strange new place. The bed had been so comfortable though that she had somehow managed to sleep the whole night through. In fact, she couldn't remember having slept this well since she was a child.

She slid out of bed and pushed her hair out of her face. She had set the clothes Al had given her on the kitchen chair she had dragged into the room last night to use as a second lock, in case they had a key or if the lock wasn't as good as it seemed. She moved toward it now. She ran her hand over the fabric and smiled despite herself. It was so clean and soft that she could hardly stand it. Like the nightgown, it wasn't anything expensive, but it was volumes better than the clothes Jenna had been wearing for longer than she cared to remember.

The outfit consisted of a light skirt in a cherry brown color and a cream-colored shirt. Al had even left a ribbon or two for her to decorate her hair with. After Jenna slipped into the clothes and gently laid the nightgown over the side of the bed, she moved to sit on the edge of the small bed she had occupied the night before and held the ribbons gently in her hand. They were both red and she stroked them gently with her thumb. Something in the back of her head told her that she was probably too old to wear ribbons in her hair, but they were so pretty that she could hardly stand it.

She looked up and glared at the door as if she could see the people on the other side of it. What were they thinking, giving her ribbons like these? What did they want from her? She turned her glare toward the ribbons and moved to throw them across the room, but she couldn't bring herself to do so. Instead, she held them tighter to her chest and continued to glare at the door, doing her best to discern the motives of these Jacobs people.

She would stay locked in this room all day if she had to.

After ten minutes of sitting that way, Jenna grew restless. She gently laid the ribbons on the side of the bed and started pacing the length of the room. She wished there was a mirror so she could see how the ribbons would appear in her hair without actually leaving the room with them. She refused to wear them; they were tainted. If she wore them, she would be even more in their debt. In her eyes, the ribbons were some sort of bribe, some means of trickery that she wouldn't be fooled into accepting.

As it was, there was only her little bed, the kitchen chair, her worn shoes, and a cradle in the room. This room must be the future baby's room. Jenna wrinkled her nose at the ugly, faded pink blanket that lay strewn across it. Were they hoping for a girl or was this something from when Al was a little kid?

By the time she worked up the resolve to leave the room, she had already planned what she would do. She would wait until she had received her clothes and then she'd go up to Midtown or something. It had been a while since she'd been in that part of Manhattan and maybe she would be able to sleep on that fire escape that she had found last time. It was well concealed and made her feel much safer than most other places. She would stay there a while before moving on to Queens. She needed to stay out of Brooklyn as long as possible after what had happened yesterday.

Jenna pulled the chair away from the door and moved it to the side before unlocking the door and poking her head out. The hallway was clear. The voices of David and Al had stopped at least half an hour ago. It was about midmorning now and Jenna wondered if they had left her here alone. The thought made her anxious. Were they really so stupid as to let a complete stranger wander through their house alone?

She quietly made her way to the living room and nearly jumped when she saw Al asleep in the red, high-backed chair that looked entirely out of place, even among the mismatched furniture. From what Jenna had seen of Al, she didn't seem the type for ornate furniture, even if she could afford it. She lay now with her head lolling backward and her arms wrapped around her stomach. Her face was scrunched up like she was having a bad dream and Jenna couldn't help but wonder what it was about.

Standing there, she wondered what she was now expected to do. She strongly considered just leaving now. If she took off, she could keep the soft clothes and maybe even take the ribbons with her. She wouldn't be forced to figure out the reasoning behind the Jacobs' hospitality.

Even as she considered it, Al's head started to turn back and forth and she was whispering protests, her hands clenching and unclenching in her lap. Concerned, Jenna moved closer, unsure whether or not she should wake the older girl. Al's jaw quivered and she whimpered barely loud enough for Jenna to hear it, but that was enough for her. Reaching out a hand, she shook Al's shoulder softly. "Al?"

Al's eyes shot open and she sat up so quickly that Jenna jumped backward out of fright. Al blinked rapidly. She looked scared for a moment, but the emotion vanished when she seemed to realize that whatever it was she had been dreaming about was over. She smiled when she laid eyes on Jenna.

"You're up," she announced, stretching in her seat. "Did you see the breakfast I made for ya? It's in the oven."

Jenna shook her head, her brow furrowed as she wondered what it was that Al had been dreaming about.

"Well, come on." Al moved toward the kitchen and Jenna followed wordlessly, entirely surprised that this woman had chosen to feed her not once, but twice. She pulled out a plate of eggs from the oven and felt her stomach gurgle its approval. "It may be a lil' cold. It's been a while since I made it. I can heat it up if ya need me to."

Jenna accepted the plate and immediately dug in. The meal was gone in a matter of seconds.

"I'm glad to see my clothes fit ya. I was worried they'd be too loose, but they fit you well enough." She took Jenna's empty plate and went to wash it off in the sink. "You didn't wanna wear the ribbons?"

"No," Jenna snapped. She felt a pang of guilt at the surprised look on Al's face after her angry reaction, but it passed soon enough.

"Well," Al continued, only a tad subdued. "I needa go see my husband's sistah today. I'm always happy for company. Care to join me?"

Jenna considered this for a moment. As skeptical as she was of this woman's hospitality, she didn't want to take advantage of it by stealing her clothes. If Al left, though, she'd probably kick Jenna out of the house until she returned. She highly doubted she would be able to find her way back to this place. All in all, she didn't really have much of a choice.

"I guess."

"Great." Al beamed and threw her hair up into some messy arrangement of rubber bands and pins that kept it all off her neck. She snatched up a basket filled with unknown items that sat near the door and were off.

It took a little less than half an hour to make their trek to this Sarah's house. On the way, Al took enough time to explain that Sarah was David and Les' older sister and she was living with her parents. She visited the Newsboys Lodge often and was apparently also pretty close friends with them. Once she had finished explaining that, they fell into a somewhat companionable silence. Jenna tried to memorize the streets as they wove their way through the city, but it was basically pointless. It was too much of a maze for her.

Finally, they reached the apartment building indicated as Sarah's and climbed up the stairs to the top floor. Jenna went intentionally slower because she could tell that Al was getting frustrated with her own inability to get up the stairs as easily as she used to. When they reached the top, she was out of breath but trying to pretend like she wasn't. She breathed heavily through her nose, regardless.

She moved to the doorway and knocked. Jenna moved to stand beside her, suddenly feeling a bit nervous about meeting someone else new.

The door opened to reveal a woman not much older than Al. She had a round face and light brown eyes and her smile lit up her face when she saw Al. There wasn't a single scar on this girl's face. Like Al, she had her hair up, but it was much tidier and her hair color itself was much lighter than that of her friend. She was altogether beautiful.

Jenna could immediately see the resemblance between she and her brothers, especially Les.

"It's good to see you, Al. You look great." Sarah leaned through the doorway to wrap her pregnant friend in a warm hug. She pulled away and moved to open the door further. "Come on in. Who's your friend?"

"Sarah, this is Jenna. Jenna, Sarah." Al answered before stepping through the threshold. Jenna followed quietly, offering Sarah a nod. "Runner and Les helped 'er out yesterday aftah some o' Jett's boys tried to rough 'er up. She needed a place to stay, so they brought her to us."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Jenna."

Again, she offered only a nod. She was beginning to feel more and more uncomfortable. She wished she had stayed at the house or nearby. She could probably find it again. It couldn't be that hard. Only now it would be near impossible, even if she could think of an excuse for leaving.

Sarah poured them each tall glasses of lemonade while Al found her seat on the couch. Jenna followed, seating herself on the opposite end of the couch and doing her best to resist the urge to draw her knees up to her chest. She knew Sarah wouldn't want boots on her couch, but it was hard to keep herself from it. Sitting that way made her feel safer, more protected. For some inexplicable reason, she felt incredibly vulnerable right now.

She was glad the angle gave her a wide view of the room, though. She could see every movement Al and Sarah made and every doorway.

Al was silently watching her and it made Jenna want to squirm. She could feel the older girl studying her, trying to figure her out. But she didn't want to be figured out; she wanted to be left in peace. She didn't need anyone. She was fine on her own.

Jenna decided she didn't care whether it would offend Sarah anymore. She slipped off her boots and pulled her legs up, instantly feeling better about having herself guarded in even that small way. She smoothed her skirt down for modesty and silently dared Sarah to say something about it.

She didn't.

When she entered the room, Al was still watching Jenna with an unreadable look in her eye. Sarah handed each of them their drink with a small smile before sitting down in the chair across from Al, giving Jenna her space. She appreciated the thought.

"So, anything new since I last saw you?" Sarah asked, sipping at her lemonade like a regular lady. Jenna wasn't sure whether she as impressed or disgusted. She took a good gulp from her lemonade for good measure.

"Well," Al hedged, suddenly looking a bit uncomfortable. "I did find out somethin' pretty big this mornin'."

Sarah didn't seem to notice her friend's discomfort. "What was that?"

"Jack's comin' back," she said quietly.

Every bit of color drained from Sarah's face and her smile vanished.


	5. Smile

_**Author's Note: It's one of those heavily clouded days where I'm gonna have one hell of a time trying to get any work done. Luckily, I managed to finish this chapter last night and editing isn't much trouble. Yeah, I'm only on chapter 5 on my laptop too. I wish I were further ahead, but things are crazy around here lately. Anyway, I guess I'd better go get dressed so that today can still be at least a tad productive, even with the overhanging clouds.  
On an entirely random note: What do y'all think of the new story image thing? I haven't quite decided yet.  
A million thanks to natalieblack2, JacobsConlonBrooklynNewsie, Ealasaid Una, Rachel, autumnamberleaves, and destaaa246 for your awesome reviews on the last chapter! Keep it up! :) Y'all's reviews make me want to do better and work harder. You're doing a great job at keeping this author motivated.**_

**Chapter 5- Smile**

_I know someday the smoke will all burn off  
All these voices I'll someday have turned off  
I will see you someday when I've woken  
I'll be so happy just to have spoken  
I'll have so much to tell you about it  
~Grown Ocean: Fleet Foxes~_

Sarah closed her eyes and tried to will herself into keeping her composure. She didn't want her two guests to see her floundering like this, especially over Jack. She was over him. He meant nothing to her anymore.

She took another sip of her drink to steady herself. "That's wonderful. You must be so excited."

Al's response sounded hesitant, but Sarah didn't dare look up at her face. "Yeah, I am."

Sarah coughed and stood, excusing herself to go to the restroom. She hurried down the hall and into the offending room, locking the door behind her before moving to the mirror. In it, she saw her own harried reflection and hated herself for it. She breathed deeply, first in then out, and when she had calmed, looked at herself sternly in the mirror.

"You can do this," she told herself softly. Her stomach turned with nausea and she swallowed sharply. "He's just an old friend. You should be happy to see him. You're over him. He's nothing." She repeated this until she felt calm enough to rejoin her friend in the living room. She splashed her face with water and dried it on a towel before actually doing so.

She padded quietly down the hall and lingered out of sight for a moment when she heard Al speaking.

"I dunno. He just ended it. Told me he just couldn't do it anymore. To be fair, 'e had a _lot _of pressure on 'im at the time. It's kind of a long story, but 'e was basically at the end o' his rope. Me'n Davy were just datin' then. We got married a year latah and he took off the week aftah that. He always wanted to go to Santa Fe, but he was waitin' until I was taken care of. Still, Sarah took it pretty hard, when they broke up _and_ when he left. I think she'd kinda hoped they might still woik things out."

Sarah jerked back at the remark, feeling as if she had been physically wounded. She forced herself to push the entire topic to the back of her mind. She strode out in the most carefree manner she could emulate and immediately began talking, as if she didn't notice that Al was already mid-sentence.

"So Jenna, how old are you anyway?"

Jenna fidgeted at being directly addressed and, despite her inner turmoil, this didn't go by unnoticed by Sarah. "Fifteen."

"Oh, Runner's fifteen," she commented. "When was your birthday?"

She fidgeted more and looked to Al for guidance before seeming to catch herself and jerk her head away. Her answering mumble was so quiet that she didn't catch it and had to look to Al for the answer.

"Yesterday?" her sister-in-law asked Jenna, offering Sarah a brief glance that displayed her surprised expression.

A curt nod in response.

"Oh you poor thing! Getting attacked on your birthday - how terrible." Sarah was genuinely grieved, but she was also incredibly glad that the topic switch had been so effective. "We've got to get you a cake. Let me see if we have ingredients." She started to rise, but Jenna beat her to it. The younger girl was halfway out the door before Al managed to struggle to her feet.

"We'll have to cut this visit short," Al told Sarah hurriedly as she moved toward the door that had just slammed shut. "Come visit."

And just like that, Sarah was left alone in her apartment wondering how it was that she always managed to run off all the people she cared about. Of course, sense told her that this case was entirely different, but the idea still clung to the woman and refused to release her from its grasp.

* * *

Al moved as quickly as she could without falling down the stairs. In her state, she would roll like a bowling ball. She didn't really need to hurry, though, because when she reached the bottom of the stairs she found the girl she had been after. Jenna sat on the last few steps with her head on her knees and her arms wrapped around her calves.

Al slowed her pace and attempted to slow her breathing. The fifteen year-old had to be aware of her presence by now. Al wasn't exactly the picture of stealth in her condition. It wasn't until she sat down beside the girl that Jenna looked up, though.

"What?" she asked stiffly.

Al knew better than to breach the subject before Jenna was ready. "Just taking a rest. Stairs're hardah when ya got a watermelon attached to you."

Jenna turned her head away while Al tried to figure out what to do. She wasn't used to dealing with the girl newsies, especially ones this distrustful and angry. It made her want to echo the fidgeting Jenna had been doing earlier. This wasn't exactly her territory. She was much better at keeping the boys in line than helping girls work through their feelings. Hell, she wasn't even good at working through her own feelings. That was Davy's job.

She sat there trying to figure out what to do for a good five minutes before she started speaking. It occurred to her that part of the reason Jenna was distrustful was that she knew nothing about Al and David. Maybe if Al filled her in, Jenna would be more apt to trust them. Al hated talking about her past, particularly the past that came before the Manhattan newsies, but she knew an abused kid when she saw one and Jenna needed to know that someone else identified with her.

She pulled a cigarette from her skirt pocket, slipped the correct end into her mouth and took a few seconds to light it. When she had it going, she offered the younger girl a drag.

"Ladies don't smoke," she said with more than a little snark in her voice. It was clear that she was repeating what someone else had told her. Al filed that information away. Either she hadn't been on the streets her whole life or she had spent a good majority of her street-living near the rich types.

"I ain't much of a lady, case you haven't noticed." Al shrugged and offered a little chuckle. "See, Jack'n I ran away when I was 'bout seven. Our parents used to beat us real bad, so we just ran one day. Jack hit 'im back, grabbed my hand, an' we booked it outta there."

Jenna perked up and turned her head so that it still rested on her knees, but now she was looking directly at Al, likely searching her face for truth. Al stared at the burning end of her cigarette, as if the fire that ate away the paper and tobacco could burn away the pain of remembering. She tried to speed through the last bit.

"We joined the Brooklyn newsies an' stayed there for about two years, then I got hoit pretty bad. I mouthed off to the leadah an' 'e nearly killed me. A friend stopped it an' Jack got me outta there. We ended up in 'Hattan an' Jack became head o' the newsies. I had to dress like a boy so that I could stay in the Lodge with Jack. But they were like a family to us. The 'Hattan boys're still that way. All one big family, ya know?"

Al suspected Jenna didn't really know, but didn't bother amending her statement. She took a few more puffs from the cigarette. Jenna seemed to be processing the story and the fact that Al was even telling her this.

"How'd you'n David end up togethah?" Jenna asked. As soon as the words left her mouth, Al watched the girl's eyes widen. She sucked her lips in through her teeth so that it looked like she had no lips at all. The message was clear: she hadn't meant to say that aloud and now she was scared that Al would be angry with her. She looked genuinely surprised when Al answered her.

"When he was sixteen, 'e an' Les joined the newsies. Their pa had got hurt in the fact'ry he woiked in, so the boys had to woik so they wouldn't go hungry. We became friends. He found out I was a goil an' helped keep my secret. He helped with the strike too. We fell in love." She blew a steady stream of smoke from between her lips, watching as it ascended, swirls of grey curling around themselves. "We dated for three years? Yeah, I think it was three. An' married in Septembah of '02."

Jenna listened, her countenance softening as Al finished up her cigarette and leaned over to drop it in the trashcan near the foot of the stairs.

"Point is, I know what you're goin' through. It's hard to rough it out on the streets on your own. I, at least, had my bruddah. I can't imagine dealin' with that alone. You're strong, that much is obvious." She paused, grasping internally for the right words. "I wanna help, though. Let me an' Davy an' the othahs be there for you. You don't gotta do it alone."

And just like that, Jenna's face hardened. Al could practically see the wall go back up. Jenna stood. "Just 'cause you told me your sob story doesn't mean I gotta tell you anything. I don't trust you." She started to leave and Al grabbed her wrist before she could get far. The girl immediately yanked it out of Al's grasp, but stopped to hear what Al had to say.

"I ain't sayin' you have to trust us. I'm just sayin' that ya don't have to go just yet. You can tell us what you want in your own time. We won't pressure ya." Al wished she could make Jenna understand just how much she meant that. She had been the same way when she was younger and still often diverted questions that were too close to home or a little too much for her to share. Hadn't she and David had plenty of fights over this exact thing when they first met? "I know it's scary to have to rely on someone else for a change, but its worth it. There's no catch. I just wanna help because I know what it's like to _need_ help."

Jenna stood there and studied Al's face for a long moment. Al held her eye contact, knowing it was something of a test. She didn't know why she felt such a strong need to help this girl in particular, but she couldn't ignore it.

Jenna gave a curt nod and Al felt the backs of her eyes sting with relief.

Al flashed a smile and took a moment to get on her feet. She had always taken the speed with which she could rise out of a chair for granted before she had become pregnant. She regretted that now.

"What about this Jack guy?" Jenna asked as they pushed their way out of the apartment building and onto the busy midday street. "Isn't he coming soon?"

"My bruddah won't be here 'til near the end o' the month. He can sleep on the couch or, if you decide to stay an' it makes ya uncomfortable, he can stay at the Lodge with Runner'n Les," Al told her. "He's great, though, an' won't cause ya any trouble."

Jenna gave a noncommittal grunt that told Al the girl didn't truly believe her.

"He says he's bringin' a surprise too." Al scrunched up her nose as she thought about it. "How much you wanna bet he's got 'imself a wife?"

"Well I doubt it's a horse."

Al chuckled at the snide remark, then grimaced. She turned toward the girl, concern overwhelming her features. "Don't tell Sarah, okay? I wanna wait to tell 'er about the surprise until after she's gotten used to the idea of him comin' back."

Jenna shrugged. "Probably a good idea."

Al and Jenna spent the rest of the day together, spending most of it at the house. Al knew David would have a fit if he knew she had been up and running all day twice in a row, so she figured she would sit this one out. She had fetched her knitting from the other room before asking if Jenna would like a book to read.

Jenna had fidgeted and declined. "I don't like reading."

"Don't like reading?" Al repeated. "Now that's a damn shame."

"Well, I can't like it if I never learned," she angrily half-mumbled.

"Never loined?" Al was surprised, though she figured she shouldn't be. Still, growing up around the newsies, she had always assumed that everyone was taught to read as soon as possible. You couldn't sell papers if you couldn't read. "Well then, maybe I could teach ya if you're up for it some time. Know how to knit? I could teach ya that too."

"I'd rather just watch."

And watch she did. Jenna watched Al knit and the two kept themselves busy with brief conversations for the next hour or two until preparations for dinner needed to be made. Al was able to convince Jenna that her help was wanted in the kitchen and gave a Cheshire grin in response to the small smile Jenna gave her when the girl ended up being a pretty good cook herself; the first smile from her that Al had seen yet. The second smile came when David praised one of the dishes she had made.

When she saw Jenna to bed that night, Al noticed the missing kitchen chair propped beside the door but decided it would be best if she didn't mention it.

She asked Jenna if she wanted her hair braided for the night, but the girl declined. Al hadn't really expected her to accept.

"Ya know, you're welcome to keep those clothes," Al told her, indicating the ones she had worn today now folded on the chair on top of the ratty clothes she had come in (excepting the skirt, which she was going to need Sarah's help in mending). "Even if ya don't wanna stay long."

Jenna nodded, running her hands absentmindedly through her hair and stifling a yawn.

Al hoped the girl would decide to stay and desperately longed to ask her whether or not she was planning to do so, but stifled the urge. She didn't want to scare the girl away. It was obvious that she was out of her element and quite scared. She needed some time and Al was prepared to give her just that.

"Well, if you need anything," she ended up adding awkwardly. "You know where I am."

She turned to leave, her cheeks burning a little under the realization that the girl probably didn't like her that much anyway, when Jenna called out softly.

"Thank you."

Al couldn't help but smile.

_**Disclaimer: Yes, Al smokes even when she is pregnant. But let's keep in mind that the unhealthiness of cigarettes was not discovered until the late 1960s. She would have no idea that the practice has the potential of affecting her baby in an unhealthy way. So don't smoke while you're pregnant! Better yet, don't smoke at all! And don't be upset with Al, she doesn't know any better. :P**_


	6. Princess

_**Author's Note: Hey guys! Well, I have some bad news: I'm gonna have to skip Monday's update. But don't worry, chapter seven will be up on Friday! I just haven't had the time to do all the work I need to on this story and I want to catch up. Skipping Monday seems like the best idea for now. Sorry for the inconvenience, y'all. If you miss me in the meantime, be sure to check out either one of my blogs for stuff other than fan fiction. :P The URLs are on my profile.  
Anyway, thanks for all of y'all who have been trooping along with me in the writing of this story; especially those of you who have reviewed: Ealasaid Una, JacobsConlonBrooklynNewsie, autumnamberleaves, natalieblack2, and Rachel. For the rest of you: please review! I really do value what you have to say. :)**_

**Chapter 6- Princess**

_Pretty please  
I know it's a drag_  
_Wipe your eyes_  
_And put up your head_  
_I wish you could be happy instead_  
_There's nothing else I can do_  
_But love you the best that I can  
~Darlin: Avril Lavigne~_

The next week passed quickly. Al did her best to keep Jenna entertained or busy for most of it, wanting her to feel like she was wanted and needed in their home. The more she spent time with the younger girl, the more attached she felt. Jenna kept her guard up, but Al thought she could detect a bit of concern from the younger girl whenever Al grew tired, so she had to care at least a bit.

The only people she hadn't been introduced to yet were Logan and Genie. Genie could come on strong at first and, after the first encounter with Sarah, Al didn't want her friend to scare the girl off. Al kept her visits with friends short and sweet, giving Jenna time to get used to it all.

It was a Friday when the two visited the Lodging House together. Al had been avoiding it for the past few days for the sheer purpose of letting Jenna get used to her new environment. It wfas clear that the girl was uncomfortable with new people. Les had come over a few times for dinner and the two didn't get along very well. Al hoped she could coax Jenna into making new friends when they went to the Lodge that afternoon.

She didn't tell Jenna where they were headed until they arrived at their destination.

"This is the Lodging House: my old home." Al gave a little flourish of her wrist, indicating the slightly run down building. There weren't many of the newsboys around, save a few older ones. It would be another hour or two before the boys were done selling their papers. "Don't worry, Les won't be here." She smirked as Jenna gave her an irritated look.

Al pushed open the front door and found Logan scribbling away at something behind the counter on her right. Jenna moved in behind her just as he looked up. He set his pen aside and came out from behind the counter.

"So this must be the infamous Freckles," he commented, tipping his cap. "Nice to meet you."

Jenna nodded.

"Mornin' Cap, how's the pregnancy?" he asked as he gave her a gentle hug.

"Good. Havin' a little trouble sleepin' with it bein' uncomfortable an' all, but nothin' much." She chose not to mention that her nightmares were getting worse and interfering with what little sleep she did get. David hadn't figured it out yet and she as hoping no one would have to. They usually lasted for a few days and dispersed on their own anyway. No one really needed to know. It would only worry them unnecessarily.

His brow furrowed with concern and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He opened his mouth, but she beat him to it. "I'll be fine." She said it gently, yet firmly and he closed his mouth and turned to Jenna.

"How're you enjoin' your stay at the Jacobs? They treatin' you like a queen?" He smiled gently as he moved back behind the counter.

"It's nice." She narrowed her eyes slightly as if challenging him to say otherwise when she said it and Al realized that Jenna was actually being semi-protective of she and David. She was defending them.

Al got a little choked up at the thought and had to clear her throat before she could speak again. "Jenna, this is Logan. He was a newsie when I was I was an' he's like a big bruddah to me." She beamed at her longtime friend, but saw the color drain from his face at the mention of their past. He tried to cover it up by looking back down at whatever he was looking for. Today was little Maggie's birthday and, therefore, the anniversary of her mother's death.

As if on cue, Maggie came out of the downstairs bunk room with Listener in tow, talking a mile a minute. Every year Runner had assigned a newsboy to have an excuse to stay behind and keep an eye on Logan on Maggie's birthday, just in case he needed anything. It was yet another way in which Runner proved that he was up to par in leading the Manhattan newsies. Al couldn't be more proud of him.

"Ali!" Maggie let go of Listener's hand and ran on her stubby little legs to reach her "aunt". Al bent down and lifted her into her arms.

"Hey, sweetheart. Happy birthday." Al tucked some of the girl's wild blonde curls behind her ear. "How old are you today?"

Maggie beamed and held up three fingers, before realizing that was incorrect. She squinted at her fingers and stuck out her tongue as she worked her pinky finger out from under her thumb. She now displayed four fingers.

"Whoa! You're about ready to start sellin' papes," Al laughed, planting a kiss on the girl's exposed cheek. "This is my friend Jenna. Can you say hi?"

At the realization that there was a stranger in her midst, Maggie turned suddenly shy. Al had expected as much and laughed when the girl's face immediately buried itself in the crook of her neck.

She saw a bit of a smirk emerge on Jenna's lips. "Listener, this is Jenna or Freckles, as Les keeps calling her."

At the mention of David's younger brother, Al saw Jenna's eyes roll once again. Listener moved forward with his hand extended and Jenna merely eyed it. He was taller than her by nearly a head and a half. Just when Al thought she was going to snub the shaking of his hand, the girl took it and shook it lightly before quickly letting go. It was progress, at the very least, and for that Al was thankful.

"You got me present? I'm a princess."

"Who told you that?" Al asked wryly. Maggie grinned and pointed to Listener. "He spoils you," Al answered as she set the girl down. Maggie looked up at her expectantly as Al reached into her own pocket. "Now Margaret, this is a very special present an' ya gotta promise to take care of it, okay?"

Maggie nodded solemnly, brown eyes wide in anticipation. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Logan smiling despite himself as he watched the exchange. It tempted Al to draw out the interaction if only for the purpose of making him forget his troubles a few seconds longer. She discarded the idea with another look at the little girl. It was ridiculous how adorable that child was.

She drew the doll she had made for the little girl out of her pocket and Maggie gasped with excitement. Al was relieved. She had hoped Maggie would like it. The doll itself was a bit of peachy-colored material she had cut into the shape of a person and filled with pillow stuffing before sewing up. She had added long bits of braided yellow yarn at the top of the head for hair and made a dress for the doll last of all. It had taken her a couple of hours altogether, but Al had walked away proud of her creation.

Maggie snatched the doll from Al's hand and held it tightly to her chest, her small teeth making a grand appearance as she smiled brightly at Al. She stood there for a moment before spinning around and running to her Pa, showing her the doll she had just received with all the excitement her small body could handle. When she had sufficiently shown him, she bombarded Listener and Jenna, who had simply been watching the entire display.

"Liss! Frecks! Look!"

Al moved forward to lean on the counter where Skittery was working and craned her neck to see what it was he was working on. It was paperwork concerning his owning the Lodge. He often had to send in paperwork detailing the average number of boys in the Lodge at night, his monthly income, average number of visitors, etc. Al never ceased to find it interesting how much work went into running the Lodging House. The more she learned, the more it astounded her that Kloppman had been able to do it all on his own for so long.

As Maggie towed both Listener and Jenna into the next room, Al sat on one of the rickety old stools that sat around the counter. She sat carefully, a bit concerned that it wouldn't hold her weight, but relaxed when it didn't fall to pieces on contact.

"How're you doin' today, Skitts?" she asked softly. She twisted the pleats in her skirt, glad the counter kept her longtime friend from seeing her nervous movements. She doubted she would ever be truly comfortable approaching the topic of emotions.

"I'm managing," he answered after a long pause. "It gets a lil' easier every year."

He stopped and looked toward the door where little Maggie had just disappeared with Jenna and Listener. He wasn't really looking at it, but through it. She let him marinate in his thoughts until he decided to speak again, only a few minutes later.

"I took her to the graveside today."

This didn't surprise Al. He did so every year and she hadn't doubted this year would be the same. She nodded anyway and kept her mouth closed.

"She asked me if 'er momma loved her." He looked pained and tears pooled above his lower eyelashes, threatening to spill through them.

"And what did you tell 'er?"

"I told 'er of course 'er momma loved her, that her momma woulda brushed her 'air all the time an' made her dresses. I told 'er she was lookin' down on her from heaven and singin' to her all the time."

"That's real sweet," Al assured him.

He grit his teeth and slammed his fist down on the counter, making Al jump and nearly lose her balance on the stool. "I shouldn't have to _tell_ her!" he yelled, anger flashing in his eyes. "She should _know_! Her momma should be here to tell her!"

Al saw Jenna poking her head around the door, eyes wide with fear, just as Logan crumpled. His anger melted from him as sobs began to rack his body. He held his head in his hands as he mumbled about how Maggie should never have died and how much he still needed her. Al gave Jenna what she hoped was a reassuring look as she moved off the stool and slipped around the other side of the counter to comfort her longtime friend.

Al patted her friend on the back, already feeling the tears rolling down her own face.

"I wish she was 'ere too," she said quietly. She didn't know what else to say, so she merely stood there, patting him on the back and hoping her presence might do him at least some good.

* * *

Jenna stepped back when she saw that Al was safe and unharmed. She wondered if she would have had the nerve to do something if this Logan person had been beating on her. She hoped so. Jenna couldn't even count the number of times she had prayed for someone to intervene on her behalf in similar situations. The only time it had ever actually happened was last week, when Runner and Les had saved her from that pack of Brooklyn boys that had been on her tail.

There had been so many times that she had needed someone to save her; someone to step in and tell her uncle, that boy down the street, that business man, to stop.

"Are you okay?" A hand touched Jenna's shoulder and she jerked away. Listener was standing near her now a concerned look on his face. It was only then that she realized she had started trembling.

"I"m fine," she muttered, swallowing hard. She tried to regain her composure.

"Maybe you should sit down," he suggested. His voice was quiet and calming. She nodded and allowed him to lead her to the ratty sofa only a few feet away.

When he was sure she was seated comfortably, he moved back to where Maggie was waiting for him to continue playing with him. Jenna leaned her head on her hand and closed her eyes, methodically forcing her breathing to steady itself.

* * *

That night, Logan, Maggie, and Les joined the group of three for dinner at the Jacobs house. The small table was crowded, but Al thought it was worth it to have them all together. Runner had promised to make sure they boys behaved and paid for their night's stay in Logan's stead, seeing as he likely wouldn't be back until most of the boys were asleep.

Overall, the dinner went over well. Maggie hung all over David, who had always been fond of children and spoiled her even more than Listener, if that was at all possible. Les and Jenna only fought a couple of times. The only thing that really worried Al about their relationship was that she could tell that Jenna was holding back most of the time because she was still worried about losing her place in Al and David's home. Al wondered how bad the fights would get in a couple of weeks when she lost that hesitancy.

She cringed at the idea.

The really exciting part of the night didn't happen until after Skittery and Maggie had left, though.

Les had stayed behind to help clean things up. David helped him with dishes while Al and Jenna worked on cleaning up the rest of the kitchen and dining room. Four year-olds can be rather messy when they want to be.

"I'm just sayin' that it's not that hard to sweep the floor. It takes two seconds," Les dried the dish he held with a self-righteous look on his face.

"It does when ya don't do it right," Jenna muttered in response.

"Les, stop picking fights," David scolded him for what felt like the sixth time.

"I'm not picking fights. I'm helping her get the job done the way it should be."

"I'm _doing_ it the way it should be." Jenna gave him a scathing look. "Just do your damn dishes and stop runnin' your mouth."

Les looked scandalized. "I'm not-"

"Shut _up_, Les," Al rolled her eyes instead of Jenna this time. "You're givin' me a headache. Let the girl sweep the floor however the hell she wants. I don't care as long as she's usin' the right side of the broom."

"I don't know why you always take her side."

David and Al shared a look. Les tended to be the drama queen of the family, as had been well-known since he was a kid. He was a good boy and meant well, but sometimes he was just too much.

"How was woik today, honey?" Al asked before Les started acting out again.

"Pretty good. Denton's been assigned on another overseas project, so Mr. Donne gave me an assignment he would've normally given him."

He looked pretty excited, so Al queried further, "And what's the assignment?"

"I get to interview Nellie Bly!" He was so excited that he forgot the dishes he had been cleaning and all but bounded to where his wife stood wiping down the table. She left her rag where it was and grinned at his enthusiasm.

"Nellie Bly? The name sounds familiar." Al had a better idea of who Nellie Bly was than she was letting on, but she wanted to hear her husband's answer. She knew he would be delighted to give it. Besides, even if Les had any idea who this was, Jenna definitely didn't.

"Nellie Bly!" He was so excited that he didn't even bother to get frustrated that she didn't know the name. "She's only one o' the best reporters _ever_. She admitted 'erself to an asylum in order to prove that they were mistreatin' the inmates! She set out to take a trip around the world in eighty days an' did it in seventy-two. Granted, she works for Pulitzer." He puffed out a breath at this and shook his head sadly, as if it were a shame. In a way, it was. Al had seen firsthand that the man wasn't quite right in the head. But he still had the best newspaper in the city, so Nellie Bly had to be doing _something _right.

"Congratulations, hon," Al grinned and stood up on her toes and put her hands on his face so she could give him a good, long kiss.

When they pulled away, Les feigned a gagging noise and Al stuck her tongue out at her brother-in-law. Jenna was still sweeping, as if nothing had happened at all.

"I'm sure you'll do great, Davy," Al added as David planted a quick kiss on her forehead. David's smile made his freckles disappear into the dimples that framed his lips and fondness welled up in Al's heart. "Now why don't you get that laundry I've been telling' ya I need you to hang on the clothesline on the roof. It'll start to smell if you don't do it now."

He bounded off to get it, now lost in his own imagination and excitement over the interview he was going to conduct.

Les quirked an eyebrow as David climbed out onto the fire escape. "What about me? I need help with the dishes."

"You ain't helpless," Al answered with a fond roll of her eyes. "But I guess I can help." She knew better than to try to pair he and Jenna at the sink. They were bad enough having to be in the same room as the other, much less having to stand beside the other for long periods of time.

She was just reaching into the sink to pick up the next dish when someone began banging on the door. Surprised, Al's eyebrows furrowed.

"Who could that be?" she questioned, wiping her hands off on her apron.

"Logan prolly left somethin'," Les suggested. "He's been pretty scatterbrained lately."

That made sense. Jenna looked skeptical and her hands gripped the broom tight enough to turn her knuckles white, indicating the she was likely scared too. This only made Al more confident that it must be him. She hurried to the door, eager to put the younger girl at ease again. "Coming!"

She quick-stepped toward the door, overhearing Les's words to Jenna even as she left the room, "Don't worry. No one's gonna come bargin' into this house if they know what's good for 'em. I promise you'll be safe."

It was probably the nicest thing Al had ever heard Les say to Jenna. She was relieved by the fact that they were actually able to be civil to one another. It was good to know that it was at least a possibility.

When Al opened the door, it was Racetrack who stood before her. His clothes were ratty and torn, his face covered in bruises, and her heightened sense of smell made her feel like she had been hit by a wall of body odor. She threw a hand over her mouth and nose, half out of surprise at finding her old friend on her doorstep and half to plug her nose so her stomach would stop doing flips due to the stench.

"Race?"

"I didn't know where else to go." He barely finished the sentence before pitching forward into Al's unsuspecting arms. She barely had time to catch him and struggled with the dead weight of his body.

"LES! Les a lil' help, please!" she yelled.

Les came bounding into the room and upon seeing the scene before him, immediately relieved his very pregnant sister-in-law of the unconscious Italian. He slung one of Race's arms around his shoulder before wrapping his right arm around Race's ribs. "Where do you want me to put 'im?'

"Sofa," Al answered, subconsciously rubbing her belly as she closed the front door and locked it just to be safe. She followed Les into the living room where he was laying their old friend down.

What the hell happened to 'im?" the sixteen-year-old asked, rubbing the back of his neck the way his older brother so often did.

"I dunno, Les, but I wager we'll find out soon enough."

_**Disclaimer: Mr. Donne is the only new character in this chapter that I own (all the others I own are covered in previous disclaimers. Nellie Bly is a real reporter for the New York World that operated during the time in which Al and David lived. Most of my information about her comes from Wikipedia and other assorted articles I've checked out, which means I don't know as much about her as I'd like, but I'll probably pick up a biography soon.  
Speaking of which, I've just picked up a biography about Joseph Pulitzer that I can't wait to read. :)**_


	7. Fear

_**Author's Note: Sorry about the skipping of Monday, hopefully it won't have to happen again any time soon. Can't wait to hear more from y'all. Thanks to Ealasaid Una, natalieblack2, autumnamberleaves, JacobsConlonBrooklynNewsie, kitcool, and wounded hearts, who left some absolutely lovely reviews on the last chapter. :) Y'all rock.**_

**Chapter 7- Fear**

_Open your eyes like I opened mine_  
_It's only the real world_  
_A life you will never know_  
_Shifting your weight to throw off the pain_  
_Well you can ignore it_  
_But only for so long_  
_You look like I did_  
_You resist me just like this_  
_You can't tell me to heal_  
_And it hurts remembering how it felt to shut down  
__~Careful: Paramore~_

Les was sent home not long after Racetrack showed up, much to his chagrin. He would much rather have stayed and watched how things would play out after this new development. Jenna seemed minimally interested and complied immediately when David suggested she get to bed. Of course, she had gone to the kitchen first and dragged her chair through the living room and into her bedroom. David had furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to say something when he caught Al's eye and the slight shake of her head.

"Goodnight, Jenna. Sleep well," he told her instead.

When the door closed behind her, he gave his wife a questioning look.

"Makes 'er feel safer," Al shrugged, using a washcloth to wipe away the blood and grime on Racetrack's face. "Probably uses it as anothah lock."

David nodded and looked toward the bedroom that would soon enough house their new baby. What had that girl gone through that caused her to act the way she had thus far? The question pulled at the strings of his heart. He hated knowing that someone had hurt her in a way that had damaged her so badly. He longed to fix it. He never could stand knowing that people could treat others so dismally. Still, that truth seemed to surround him more often than he would care to admit. His own wife was a product of the depravity of the human condition.

He turned to look at her as she gently tended to the wounds of their friend, and he smiled despite the weight of his thoughts. She had turned out well enough in spite of the obstacles that had been thrown in her path at seemingly every turn. She had come through the pain and the heartache and now Al flourished in being able to help others. It had long been an attribute he admired in her: she wholeheartedly enjoyed helping and caring for those who needed it. This was evident in her care of Racetrack, her understanding of Jenna, and how she had practically raised Runner.

She was a passionate woman who wasn't always quick to love, but when she did she loved with her entire being.

"What do you need me to do?" David asked moving closer to where his wife stood. The rag she used was already dyed an eclectic mix of brown and red from the wiping of Racetrack's face. Thankfully, his face looked much less gruesome now that it was clean. There were only a few scrapes and bruises there, nothing stitch-worthy that he could see. Then again, Al was the resident expert in such matters.

"Help me get 'im outta this shirt."

David complied and helped her lift him up to a sitting position. She quickly undid the buttons of his shirt and they worked together to slide his arms out of it. Racetrack groaned with every movement and Al mumbled about him being a wuss as they pulled his arms free of his long johns and let that bit hang loose over his breeches. When they had finished this and laid him back down, they were truly able to assess the damage. Racetrack's stomach and chest was a mosaic of purple and red bruising. David cringed, but was still thankful when it was clear that there was nothing that needed stitching. Instead, Al had David retrieve a bowl full of cold water and some rags that she could lay on the bruises to help a bit with the swelling. They did the same for the bruising on his face.

Then they waited.

Al and David sat in their chairs across from the sofa with silent concern for the Italian boy in front of them. David picked at the loose ends of black thread that hung from the end of the armrest he sat in. It had been a wedding present from Denton and his wife just as the red, high-backed one Al was seated in had been a wedding present from Medda. David sighed loudly and looked over at his wife. Her eyes were heavy and tired, her lips pressed together in worry. He wanted to relieve her of that anxiety, yet knew he couldn't.

"It's gonna be okay, Al. He's fine."

"Why isn't he wakin' up then?"

"He's likely exhausted," David reminded her. He stood and extended a hand to her. "Let's get some sleep. 'E can answer any questions we've got in the mornin'."

She looked like she wanted to argue, but for some reason or other decided to forego doing so. She took his hand and let him lift her onto her feet. She was silent all the way to their bedroom and as she got dressed for bed. It wasn't until he was sliding in under the covers that he was able to see the tear tracks that marked her face in transparent stripes of sorrow.

"Oh, Al," he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her body against him. He kissed away the tears under the eye closest to him. "It's okay. I promise he'll be fine."

She shook her head and sat up, turning away from him and placing her head in her hands. He could see her body shaking as she tried to keep her tears silent. He sat up quickly and moved around to the other side of the bed so he could sit next her her. Sensing that she didn't want to say anything just yet, he opted instead for gently playing with the hair that fell in soft waves down her back.

They sat like this for a good few minutes of her shaking and sniffling before she finally croaked out, "I miss Mags."

"Is that what you're upset about?" he asked, putting his arm around her. "You miss Mags?"

"No, yes, sorta." Al sniffed and sat up fully, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "I miss Mags, I'm worried 'bout Racetrack, I'm angry that someone hoit him, an' I hate seein' Skittery this way. An' I'm worried that Jenna's gonna leave an' have no one. An' I'm _so_ damn tired." She moaned in her frustration and laid her head against David's chest.

"It's gonna be okay, Ali," he cooed lovingly. "I promise it'll be okay. Yeah, Maggie won't be coming back, but we'll always have her memory. Skittery _will_ feel better as time passes. Racetrack'll be okay in the mornin' and Jenna hasn't left yet, has she? Stop worryin'. Things always turn out right in the end, don't they?"

She nodded against his chest, her dark hair puffing up around her head as she did.

"See? Worryin' about things won't help them any. They only make the problems seem bigger than they really are. Now let's get to bed an' fix that last one."

Al sat up, her eyes still leaking slowly and looked at him sadly. "I love you."

David felt his heart swell in his chest, even after four years of marriage, and smiled back at her. "I love you too."

* * *

Racetrack woke with a heavy groan and the feeling of something wet smothering him. When he pushed himself up, he felt the wet objects slide from his face and chest into his lap. A dull ache caused his entire upper body to throb in unison as he picked up the washrags he finally recognized for what they were and placed them on the floor beside him. It was then that his heart seized in his chest at the sudden realization that he didn't know where he was. The darkness of the room he lay in was nearly suffocating in those few moments of confusion. The moment he remembered he was in Al and Davy's house, the darkness receded or, at the very least, was no longer threatening.

A nearly inaudible sigh slipped through his lips. He lifted his hands and blindly felt the erratic swelling of his injuries before deciding it would be more productive to check them out in the washroom. His legs felt weak as he moved toward the bathroom opposite the front door. He wondered what time of night it was and how long he had been unconscious.

Seconds after he had found the doorknob, he fumbled for the light switch and was bathed in light that made him have to blink rapidly in order to gain his vision. He cringed at his reflection in the mirror. He was heavily bruised, but he had expected as much. He was happier to see that Al hadn't needed to stitch him up at all. He had a few cuts and scrapes, but nothing that warranted needlework. He hated needles.

Racetrack felt sluggish and tired, a result of both his beating and his general need for sleep. He splashed some water on his face and dried it off with a nearby towel. He considered leaving right then. By being here, there was a chance that he was putting Al and David in danger. Even as he thought it, he made up his mind to do exactly that - to leave. Al would be angry with him in the morning, but that was less important than keeping her, Davy, and their unborn baby safe. Racetrack would be damned before he intentionally hurt the girl who was practically a sister to him and the only family he really had.

He turned off the light and felt his way back into the living room. He took a notebook and what felt like a marker before moving toward the window. He opened the curtains just enough to let in the light from a nearby street lamp.

**Dear Al**, he wrote in large, scrawling script. **I dont wanna put ya in danger. Gonna head out. Sorry.**

He had just begun to sign his name at the bottom when an ear-piercing scream rang out in the other room. It was the sound of pure terror. Race immediately recognized it as Al's and was leaping over the couch before he even registered what he was doing. His first thought was that the thugs that had worked him over had managed to track him, but that didn't make sense. Why would they go for Al? How had they managed to get in without anyone noticing until now? Still fear gripped his heart.

Five lunging steps carried him to the bedroom where David had apparently just woken up. He was sitting straight up on his side of the bed, bereft of a shirt, eyes shooting around wildly in search of an unseen danger. When his eyes landed on Racetrack, he seemed to wake up more fully and realize the screaming was the result of his wife, who was having a particularly intense nightmare. She was thrashing wildly at his side, still screaming, though not nearly as loud as before. David grabbed her forearms in order to keep them from whacking him while he tried to calm her.

"Wake her up!" Racetrack commanded, concerned and somewhat frightened at the fear clearly etched across Al's face, visible even in the darkness of the room.

"I'm trying!" David hissed in response. His voice lowered to cooing and soothing words as Racetrack moved to the other side of the bed.

Race was at a loss regarding what to do. He remembered she used to have nightmares the same way he and the other boys did, but he'd never heard her scream in her sleep like this. He moved to turn on the bedside lamp so David could see. Thankfully, she was already starting to get quieter, as if she was slowly waking up. Light flooded the room and he registered her matted hair and the tears streaming down her face, as well as David's extremely concerned expression.

Al's eyes shot open and her screaming halted entirely. Her eyes looked crazy in their panic as she swept the room with her gaze, as if trying to reassure herself that everything was now okay.

It was at that moment that something hard slammed into the back of Racetrack's head. He staggered forward, crying out in response to the pain. He vaguely heard both David and Al cry out before the object struck him a second time and he dropped to the floor, unconsciousness wrapping itself around his faculties for the second time that night.

* * *

Al had woken from a terrible nightmare, only to find confusion and fear so palpable in her bedroom that she could practically taste it. Racetrack was lying facedown on the floor beside her and Jenna stood behind him in her nightdress, shaking like a leaf in the wind, a rolling pin grasped tightly in her hand. David, to whose comforting words she had woken, had been stunned into silence beside her, his arms still around her.

Concern overwhelming her, Al slid out from under the covers and dropped to her knees beside her friend.

"Al?" David's voice was hesitant and about as confused as she felt.

"Help me flip him ovah," she commanded. He was at her side in an instant and helping her roll Racetrack onto his back. She felt for a pulse. It was unlikely that the force behind Jenna's blows was great enough to kill the sailor and ex-newsboy, but she still found herself relieved when she felt the drumming of his heartbeat against her fingers. Al sat back on the balls of her feet before turning her gaze on Jenna. David's eyes followed hers.

"Jenna, are you alright?" David asked.

Jenna startled at the question and half-raised her weapon as if to take a swing at him before recognition registered in her eyes and she lowered it again with a curt nod. Her eyes were still wide and she continued to shake. She tore her eyes from David and looked back at the person she had just hit. Al stood and padded slowly toward Jenna, approaching her as one would a wounded animal.

"Are you okay, honey?" Al questioned, moving closer. Jenna's brow furrowed as she looked up and Al saw there were tears gathered in her eyes. She blinked and one escaped. It reminded Al of the wetness on her own face and she hurriedly wiped them away with the palm of her hand before placing her hands on Jenna's shoulders, holding them as if that would keep the girl from shaking. "Jenna, are you alright?"

"He was hurting you." Her voice came out shaky and small.

"No. Oh no, honey. He was tryin'a help. I was havin' nightmares."

Jenna's entire body was tense despite her shaking. Al had to repeat herself another time before the words seemed to make since to the younger girl. Her freckled face registered disbelief and she shook her head, her brown hair flying in all directions. "No, you were screamin' an' he was standin' over you."

"Nightmares, Jenna," Al answered firmly to show the girl she was telling the absolute truth. "He's an old friend. My oldest friend. He'd nevah hoit me. I swear it to you."

Jenna paused and seemed to turn this over in her mind for a few moments before nodding slowly. She looked past Al at the body on the ground. "I-is he gonna be okay?"

"He's fine. Ya just knocked 'im out. Davy'll put him back on the couch an' he'll wake up with a nasty headache. That's all." Al gave the girl a small smile. "Thank you for tryin'a take care o' me, though."

Jenna nodded and the girl's exhaustion was immediately apparent. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, she looked like she had hardly slept at all. "Let's get you to bed."

Al returned Jenna to her room, where it was clear that the chair she used as an extra lock had been haphazardly thrown aside in the girl's scramble to come to Al's aid. Jenna slid the rolling pin she had used for a weapon under her pillow and Al wondered if she had come with that or if she had snatched it from the kitchen when she arrived. Come to think of it, she hadn't seen her rolling pin in a few days now. She supposed she would have to add a new one to the shopping list. Al knew better than to deprive a wounded girl from her weapon; if it gave her a higher sense of security, Al felt she was entitled to keeping it.

Al made sure Jenna was settled before leaving the room, pausing only long enough to hear the girl drag the chair back to its place under the doorknob. David was in the living room trying to figure out how to get Race back onto the couch without further injuring him. Al ducked into their shared bedroom, turned off the light, and settled under the covers as quickly as she could manage. When her husband finally came back in the room, she feigned sleep.

"Al? Ali, you awake?" David whispered as he leaned over her from his side of the bed. She kept her breathing steady and deep, though she could feel his face inches from hers. He sighed and planted a quick kiss on her temple. "She does need 'er sleep. We'll talk about it in the mornin'."

Al pretended to be asleep until she heard his breathing even out and her eyes shot wide open once more. She didn't want to talk about it. She didn't want to replay the visions that had danced behind her eyelids during her slumber, so she had pretended to be asleep though she knew there would be no more sleep for her that night

Either way, she had already cried twice that night. She would be damned if she'd let it happen again.


	8. Family

_**Author's Note: Guys, I'm so sorry I missed Monday's update. For those of you who didn't see the notice on my profile, I sustained major second degree burns on my legs and had to go to the hospital on Sunday. I'm doing much better today, though I'm still confined to the couch. At least that gives me time to write, though I can't hold my laptop in my lap and have to turn at an awkward angle to do so. **_

_**Anyway, thank you so much Ryn of Magic, woundedhearts, autumn amberleaves, Rachel, natalieblack2, Ealasaid Una, and missalyssap for your lovely reviews. I'd especially like to thank Ealasaid Una, who has been so encouraging and sweet these last couple of weeks and, upon seeing the notice on my profile, immediately messaged me to ask if there was anything I needed prayer for. So sweet! :)**_

**Chapter 8- Family**

_Crawling in my skin  
__These wounds, they will not heal  
__Fear is how I fall  
__Confusing what is real  
__Discomfort endlessly has pulled itself upon me  
__Distracting, reacting  
__Against my will I stand beside my own reflection  
__It's haunting  
__~Crawling: Linkin Park~_

Jenna woke with a splitting headache and, for a moment, thought it was she who had been clubbed by Racetrack instead of the other way around. She groaned and sat up, calling to mind the events of last night and cringed at the whole of it. Sitting up, she yawned before wrapping her arms around her knees and settling her chin upon them.

She had been terrified last night, convinced that Al had been in legitimate danger. Without even pausing to think about it, she had scrambled for the rolling pin (which had previously been hidden under the mattress) and knocked the chair aside to reach the woman who had so kindly taken her in. When she had lain eyes on David's concerned face and the man looming over her, she hadn't thought twice about hitting him over the head with her makeshift weapon. It was only once he had fallen that she had started panicking.

All in all, though the danger had apparently been nonexistent, she was happy with herself at having done something about it. She had always wondered whether she would become one of those people who had just averted their eyes when she had been in danger. She didn't want to end up like her aunt, who had just looked away when her uncle would Jenna inappropriately. Tears welled up in her eyes as she remembered the day her uncle had gone too far. When she had approached her aunt, the woman had called her a "lying little bitch," slapped her, and sent her to her room. It was that day that Jenna had run away.

Jenna touched her hand to her cheek as if expecting the pain to rise up once again as she remembered it.

Nausea boiling in her stomach, Jenna quickly got out of bed and changed into her clothes before making her way out of her room as quickly as possible. She didn't want to be alone right now. Being alone meant thinking and thinking meant remembering.

When she reached the living room, she feigned rubbing the sleep out of her eyes in order to make sure no tears were visible. The man Al called Racetrack was still passed out on the couch and Jenna grimaced at the bruising that covered most of his visible skin. She felt a pang of guilt for adding to that collection of bruises. Sliding on bare feet toward the kitchen, she stopped upon realizing that David and Al were arguing and hid behind the doorframe while staying within earshot.

"You need to stop bottling things up. It's not healthy."

"I'm not bottlin' anything up." It was clear, even without looking, that Al was clenching her teeth as she spoke.

"Yes, you are," David answered, his voice superbly frustrated. Both kept their voices low, presumably to keep from waking a sleeping Racetrack. "Why won't you talk to me?"

"Why won't you leave me alone?" Al hissed back. "I said I don't wanna talk about it."

Jenna furrowed her brow as she listened. What were they going on about? This was a new development. Sure, the two disagreed on plenty of things, but they were usually rather civil about it. She didn't think she had ever heard them argue so angrily before. The angriest she had seen either of them was when Al had yelled at David for leaving the toilet seat up _again_ and he had been suppressing his laughter throughout most of her lecture anyway. Now both were definitely angry. Jenna risked a quick peek around the corner and saw that Al was leaning over a skillet with her back turned to David.

"Maybe that's why you need to." David threw his arms up in the air and let his hands flop down onto his head.

"It was just a nightmare, David."

"_No_, it wasn't," David said firmly.

He reached for her arm in order to turn her around so they would be face to face. Al yanked her arm away from him and the skillet skid across the stovetop. With yell of frustration Al yanked off her apron and threw it on the table before storming out of the room toward Jenna.

Jenna ducked back behind the wall and pressed herself against it. In her fury, Al didn't even notice.

"I'm going to see Genie!" she yelled over her shoulder as she angrily grabbed at her shawl and headed for the front door.

David came sprinting out of the kitchen. "Al, stop! Don't leave-" the door slammed shut behind her, "angry."

The yell of frustration came from David this time and he covered his face with his hands, the emotion coloring his entire countenance. Jenna hardly dared breathe. David was only a foot in front of her and to her right, clearly upset. Upset often translated into violence in her experience. She pressed herself harder against the wall and fought the urge to shut her eyes. If she was going to be hit, she wanted to see the blow coming.

To her surprise, however, when David turned around he didn't seem angry at all; just sad and somewhat defeated. He sighed upon laying eyes on her.

"How long have you been standing there?" he asked, his head cocking slightly to the side.

"A while."

Another sigh. "Well, breakfast is ready. You hungry?"

Jenna nodded slowly, still surprised he hadn't been angry upon catching her eavesdropping. Now that she thought about it, she didn't think she had ever seen him hit anything in anger before. Rather than asking why he wasn't angry with her, she chose instead to press her luck as she followed him into the kitchen. "She always get that angry?"

David shoveled a sizable portion of eggs onto two plates, mumbling something about Racetrack having to make his own breakfast, and set one in front of her before sitting down with his own plate.

"She's not much of a morning person," he answered, looking toward the entryway to the living room as if hoping she would show up. "I shouldn't've pressed her, but I'm worried. She only ever has bad nightmares like that when she's scared or worried. She likes to 'old things in more than a person ought. She's gone through a lot. I just wish she'd let me in, let me be there for her." As he spoke, his thumb absentmindedly stroked a scar just under his left shoulder. It lay horizontal and pink upon his skin, just visible where he had pushed the loose collar aside.

Jenna quirked an eyebrow at it. David gave her a confused look before glancing down at what he was doing. He removed his hand and placed it on his fork, though he still hadn't started eating yet.

"Sorry, I guess I shouldn't be talkin' to you about this. Go ahead an' eat."

He didn't seem to notice that she had already devoured half of her plate. "What's the scar from?"

"Fight," David answered around his first bite of eggs. He swallowed. "Guy named Quick Fists stabbed me when I stopped 'im from killin' Al."

Jenna found this surprising. "Why would anyone want to kill Al?" She was definitely abrasive, but quite a nice person altogether.

"You make enemies when you live on the streets," he answered vaguely with a shrug of his shoulders. "I'm sure you know that."

Jenna shivered, not because it was cold but because his words brought back all the memories that she had woken up with this morning. As soon as she did so, David lost the spaced-out look in his eye and zeroed in on her. His face was a mask of concern. "Are _you_ okay, Jenna?" David asked, dipping his head as he spoke, trying to get her to look him in the eye. "You seemed pretty shaken last night."

She knew he was being polite in not mentioning the fact that she probably still looked shaken. She struggled to come up with something to say, not wanting him to feel even worse after the spat he had just had with Al, yet still not trusting him enough to confide in him. Beyond that, she was a terrible liar.

Finally, she settled with, "I've made enemies too." She said it quietly and quickly took another bite of her eggs before looking up at David.

David's eyes were calculating, yet soft. He was trying to figure out how to ask more without overstepping boundaries. Jenna scrambled for a way to change the subject, but Racetrack was the one who managed to do it for her.

The man she had clubbed over the head last night came trudging into the room at that exact moment, rubbing the back of his head as he plopped into the chair opposite David. He groaned and Jenna tensed, moving her body to slightly away and readying herself in case she needed to run. As it was, he was currently squinting at her as if trying to piece together who she was, or maybe wondering if his blow to the head had made him forget someone he ought to know.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "I don't think I know ya. Name's Racetrack."

"Jenna."

"You a newsgirl or sommat? Must be new. I don't recognize ya."

"No."

"She's livin' with us, Race," David said around a mouthful of eggs. "Les and Runner found 'er on the street and brought 'er back here. She's the one who clubbed you over the head last night." David chuckled and Jenna tensed further, turning just enough to send the curly-haired man a glare while still keeping this new stranger within her sight. "Didn't think a little girl could knock you out," he observed.

Racetrack frowned and rubbed the back of his head. He was definitely shorter than David, but he was also stockier, more muscular. Jenna could easily see how David would think that way. She could also vividly imagine how many bruises this guy could give her before she made it to the door.

"She _clearly_ had a weapon an' my back was toined. She snuck up on me." Racetrack turned his gaze on her again. "Why _did_ ya hit me, anyway?"

"She thought you were hurtin' Ali," David answered for her, eyeing her with concern again. Jenna squirmed.

"Oh, well that's a pretty good reason," Racetrack responded, much to Jenna's surprise. Didn't he have a rolling pin-sized bruise on the back of his head? "Happens to the best of us. I once punched 'im," he indicated David with a nod of his head, "for the same thing an' Al hit Blink with a baseball bat once 'cause she thought 'e was a burglar." He seemed to notice the surprise on Jenna's face because he added, "No hard feelings."

Jenna made her excuse to leave the table a few minutes later, uncomfortable with the idea of being alone in the house with the both of them. Though a part of her did want to hear more about the stories behind what happened to David and this 'Blink' kid. She put on her boots and slipped out the front door while the two were still in conversation.

She took quick steps down to the bottom level of the apartment building and out the front door. When she was out, she looked up to get a good picture of the place in her mind so she could remember it when she was trying to find her way back. It was a tall, red brick building with the obscenely rusty fire escape on the left. The window on the right of the green front door was busted and white curtains spilled out of it. Once she had it firmly fixed in her mind, she hurried to the end of the street before realizing she didn't know where to go and, probably, how to get there.

She had been following Al around for the past week or so; she would just have to do her best to re-trace her steps. She faltered for a moment. There was a good chance she would get so turned around that she wouldn't be able to find her way back at all. Then again, all she would have to do is find a newsboy who could take her back to the Lodge of Al's house. It was weird, knowing there was a place for her to go now, no matter how brief that amount of time was.

She set off, doing her best to copy some direction Al had taken her in. To be honest, she wasn't even sure if this was the path to the Lodge, Sarah's house, or the market. She had been walking for about ten minutes when remembering the directions no longer mattered. The newsboys were scattered throughout the city, as she had anticipated, and as she turned a corner she found Runner hawking his headlines as loudly as possible. She considered moving on, but he spotted her before she could make up her mind and started walking toward her.

"First time I've seen you outta the apartment without Al. Where is she?" Runner asked, tipping his hat toward her in greeting.

"She an' Davy had a fight this mornin'. She left."

"She'll be back," Runner shrugged. "She ain't a mornin' person."

Jenna was surprised at the intensity of her relief at his words. She hadn't realized how concerned she was until now. Al coming back meant she still had a place to go back to, after all. Because there was no way in hell she was about to share an apartment with two men she hardly knew, especially when she had just recently hit one over the head with a rolling pin.

"So, Les tells me Racetrack came home last night all beat up?"

"Yeah."

"He alright?"

Jenna nodded. She opened her mouth to elaborate, but Runner held up a hand to stop her from answering and took a moment to yell about the newspaper headlines again. Two people came up to buy from him and he nodded for her to continue.

"He's fine, just bruised."

"Know why he got soaked?"

Jenna shook her head this time. "I left before they started talking about it."

Runner nodded and looked her over. "So, where ya headed?"

"Dunno," she shrugged. "Just wanderin' I guess."

Runner appraised her, his blonde hair falling in front of his eyes, looking like he wanted to say something. He sucked his lips between his teeth, making them only two small, pink lines above his chin. He seemed to decide against whatever it was and shook his head a little before saying instead, "Well, you're welcome to join me, if you've got nothin' bettah to do."

"I don't wanna get in your way," Jenna answered. She started to take a step away when Runner rolled his eyes and grabbed her wrist, starting to pull her back toward where he had formerly been.

"Don't be daft. You won't be in the way," he said as Jenna yanked her wrist away. "In fact, I could prolly use your 'elp."

It was in this manner that Jenna was suckered into helping Runner finish off selling the rest of his papers. She posed as his sister, though they looked nothing alike, and she kept her mouth shut because she was well aware that anything she said would give them away in an instant. Runner decided to play up the idea that she was mute and that added an extra level of pity.

When they were all finished up, about an hour and a half later, it was nearly lunchtime. Runner dropped two quarters into Jenna's hand, much to her surprise. She frowned at the coins in her hand and looked to him for explanation, which made Runner laugh.

"You helped me sell today; you get a cut o' the profits." Runner shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. "You 'ungry?"

"A little," she answered. In reality, her stomach had been begging for food for nigh on an hour now.

"So where're you from anyhow? You don't talk like a New Yorker," Runner asked bluntly as they began to walk.

Jenna had no idea where they were headed, but she assumed food was involved and that sounded like a good bet to her. She considered her answer and figured she might as well tell him. "I'm from Pennsylvania."

"What made ya come to New York?"

"Family."

Jenna was immensely glad when he didn't pry further. He simply nodded and continued walking. Even those simple questions had drudged up the memory of her parents' death and the subsequent move to New York. Of course, her aunt and uncle lived outside of the city, but that was how she had managed to get most of the way here. She refused to dwell on it and turned the conversation back toward food.

"Where are we headed, anyway?"

"Tibby's. It's where all the newsies eat when we can afford it."


	9. Bingo

_**Author's Note: Great news guys, I have just been contacted by Shot Rock at NYNA (New York Newsies Awards) and my stories have been nominated for the Summer Reading Awards this year. :) I am super honored to be a part of it again. Nominations are open until July 15th and I have to be one of the top five nominated stories in order to get into the voting round, which starts on the 20th. So if you would like to nominate me, that would be awesome, or you can nominate someone else you think is worthy of the awards. Either way, here's the URL: ******__ nyna#!participate_

_**Many thanks to everyone who reviewed, aka: natalieblack2, woundedhearts, Ealasaid Una, Ryn of Magic, Rachel, autumnamberleaves, and KateM. Y'all have definitely brought plenty of smiles to my face on a less-than-enjoyable week. Btw, my leg is slowly and surely healing, though it still hurts a bit. I would be up and walking if it weren't for the fact that the bandage slides down when I move much. -_-**_

**Chapter 9- Bingo**

Genie rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hands. Said appendages were already aching from all the work involved in this morning's commissions. She had two funeral pieces to complete by the end of the day and six bridesmaids bouquets to be completed by tomorrow morning. It was a lot of work for one person. The Irish woman had considered hiring an extra person to help her in the shop, but didn't even know where to start when it came to looking for employees or what those employees should be paid.

At least she had the next hour to work on the commissions without interruption. It was supposed to be her lunch break, but she had hurriedly scarfed down a sandwich before turning back to her work. As much as she adored flowers, they could be quite a hassle sometimes, particularly when they chose not to cooperate.

"Come on!" she groaned as another stem broke. She growled and set the flower aside before throwing the stem across the room in anger. At least she had nearly finished the funeral pieces. Those were the ones that took the most time anyway.

The door chimed and she looked up as two men pushed their way through the doorframe.

Genie frowned. "Sorry, gents, the shops closed fer another hour. I can 'elp ya then."

Both were dressed quite smart, the shorter wearing a top hat while the taller donned a bowler hat and a black well-trimmed mustache. The smaller took off his hat and smirked, "We ain't here for flowers." The look in his eye was menacing and Genie didn't like it one bit.

Warning bells went off in Genie's mind and she sorely wished she had locked the door.

"Then what are you here for?" she questioned, wiping her hands on her apron. She then pretended to gather the leaves she'd clipped together, using it as cover as she slipped her stem-cutting shears off the table. It was small enough that she could mostly conceal the tool behind her hand, but kept it close to her skirt just in case.

"We was wonderin'," the taller answered, not bothering to remove his hat, "if you 'ad seen Racetrack Higgins around anytime lately. His shipmates said 'e talks a lot about a florist named Eugenia Peters. That wouldn't happen to be you, would it?"

Genie narrowed her eyes, inwardly cursing Race for putting her in this situation. It was clear that whatever they wanted Racetrack for couldn't be good. "Who wants to know?"

"We's just friends o' his."

"Likely story."

The shorter one was frustrated now. "Our _boss_ wants to have a lil' chat with 'im about a pokah game they had a couple nights ago."

Genie swallowed. "Who's your boss?" she asked him warily.

"Paul Kelly. Hoid of 'im?"

Genie felt the cold chill of fear crawl up her spine. _Oh Race, what did you get yourself into? _She swallowed a second time. "You're from the Five Points Gang."

"Bingo," the taller of the two stepped forward. "So you'd bettah start talkin'."

* * *

By the time Al reached Genie's flower shop, she was only half as angry as she had been when she left the house. She had taken the long way, meandering a bit, the way she was prone to. Walking always helped her calm down.

She was beginning to regret storming out on her husband like that. She knew it hurt him when she did that. He hadn't followed and she was thankful for that. David knew there were certain times that she really just needed time to cool down. She wouldn't be surprised if he showed up around lunchtime, though.

When she reached the shop, she saw that Genie had put up the "Closed" sign for her lunch break. She tended to take her break an hour or two before most. That way, she would be open when the rest of the city was milling about for their own lunch breaks. Al thought it a pretty ingenious idea and had told Genie as much. The woman had merely shrugged, "Got to make ends meet somehow, lass."

Upon closer inspection, though, Al saw that there were two men in the shop with her. She moved to a better angle and saw Genie sitting at her work stool, her eyes wide and face even paler than usual under her freckles. Her heart beginning to pound against her chest, Al tried the door and found it locked. Genie caught sight of her at that moment and shook her head in the slightest of motions. Al put up a single finger and hurried around the back.

The back door was usually unlocked and Al thanked the Lord when she found it so once again. She pushed her way through the entryway and left the door ajar behind her, not daring to alert them to her presence just yet. The back room was a cluttered wonderland of flowers, vases, and scissors. Leaves and discarded stems littered the floor, freckled here and there by a few bursts of color in the form of flower petals.

"You hear me?" A threatening voice in the other room boomed. "Get talkin'.

Al looked for a weapon and only managed to find a broom, so she grabbed that and headed out into the front room, pretending to sweep like she had been in the back the entire time just tidying up. "Genie, you want me sweep up front?" she asked, then looked up and feigned surprise. "Oh, I didn't realize you-" she stopped mid sentence and leaned on the broom. "Are you kiddin' me?"

Oscar Delancey spat on the floor in front of him and snarled. "Well if it ain't little Ali."

"She ain't so little anymore," Morris commented. "You gained some weight."

"I'm pregnant, dumbass," Al retorted. She turned toward Genie, "What are these two tryin'a pull? They robbin' you or sommat?"

"You know them? They wanna know about Racetrack."

Al eyed the two of them. They had both grown stockier and looked much tougher than they had been as kids. Al didn't like the looks of this. They had been formidable when she was a newsie, though she had been able to take them if she could go one at a time. But now she was pregnant, they were stronger, and she was almost certain Genie had no idea how to fight.

"These are the Delancey bruddahs."

"Enough," Morris growled, taking a threatening step forward that made Genie jump. "Shoulda known you would end up involved in this, Cap." He didn't seem to upset about it, though, and Al had the feeling that he was looking forward to getting her back after that last fight they had.

"And what _is_ this?" Al shot back, taking a step forward as well so that she was standing beside her friend.

"They say Racetrack owes their boss money. They're members of the Five Points Gang."

Al gave them an appraising look. "Should a known you two'd turn out to be thugs."

Morris closed the gap between them and caught Al around the neck with one hand, squeezing just enough to cause her pain without totally cutting off her air supply. "Tell us where 'e is," he boomed dangerously.

Genie yelled for him to let her go and lunged at him with a pair of flower shears she had apparently been hiding, but Oscar reached her first, twisting her wrist so that she cried out and dropped her weapon. Then he grabbed her by her hair and yanked her far enough away from Al and his brother that she wouldn't interfere.

Al made no move to clutch at his hand, but grit her teeth. "Racetrack's been a sailor for years now. His ship oughta be comin' into port soon." She tried to turn her head to check on Genie, but Morris's grip remained firm. "You leave 'er alone, Oscar," she yelled in Morris's face instead. "She's got nothin' to do with this!"

"You're lyin'," Morris responded, his bushy mustache dancing along with the movements of his lips. "He was playin' cards with our boss last night."

That explained the bruising. He must have been caught in a lie. Or he had simply won. Paul Kelly was well known for his enjoyment of violence. Al growled back in her throat. She had always told Racetrack his gambling was going to get him in trouble and now look, he had dragged her and Genie into it too. Enough was enough.

Al struck out with the broom she was still holding in her hand, shoving it hard into the soft spot between Morris' ribs and his stomach. It did as it was intended, knocking the breath out of him and giving her the chance to breathe properly again. She swung again and the broomstick connected with his temple, knocking him temporarily unconscious.

She turned to where Oscar was holding a struggling Genie, whose face had gone from pale to bright red as she angrily kicked out at the larger man.

"Let 'er go, Oscar," Al fairly snarled, gripping the broom with white knuckles. "I will bash your 'ead in."

It was then that Oscar did exactly what Al hadn't been expecting. He pulled out a gun. The moment Genie felt the barrel against her temple, she stopped moving. Al felt all the blood drain from her own face.

"Drop the broom, Cap."

Al lifted her hands and did as he said, her heart threatening to escape the confines of her chest through her throat. "Don't do anythin' rash, Oscar. You don't wanna have killin' a woman on your rap. The bulls'll be on you like flies if ya do." She tried to sound calming, putting to use the diplomacy she had been taught to use when her brother was head of the Manhattan Newsboys and she often had to act on his behalf.

"Somehow that don't bothah me too much," Oscar taunted as he cocked the gun. "Tell me where Racetrack's hidin'."

Al felt nauseous. She may have witnessed plenty of beatings, but she had only been present at one murder and she wanted things to stay that way. She wasn't about to watch the life drain from Genie the way she remembered it draining from Quick Fist's eyes. She went out on a limb.

"You do this an' your boss ain't gonna be so happy with you," she told him in an almost teasing voice. She tried to swallow the fear and look as if she knew something he didn't. She would have to do her best moll impression if she was going to convince him.

He bit. "An' why's that, Kelly?"

"You just said it, didn't you? You don't think it's odd that you're workin' for my cousin? You don't think he's gonna be damn well pissed when 'e founds out you was messin' with me an' my friends?" She narrowed her eyes, laying it on thick. "I don't know where Race is, but you bettah believe once Paul hears he's a friend o' mine, he'll lay off."

"You're name's Sullivan," Oscar growled in response, but she could see he was beginning to waiver.

"Actually, it's Jacobs now, but that ain't the point." Her hear was hammering so hard that it was a wonder everyone in the room couldn't hear it. She tried to keep her head cool. "We took our cousin's name 'cause it was easiest, dimwit."

"I don't believe you."

"Fine, don't believe me. But don't blame me when you're dumped in the East River aftah killin' my friend."

Oscar grit his teeth and finally replaced the gun in its holster. He shoved Genie toward Al. She caught her friend as Oscar yanked his slowly waking brother off the floor.

Oscar went to the door and turned back for one last glare, "I'll check your report with the boss. An' you bettah believe I ain't got any qualms with killin' a pregnant woman if you're a liar."

Al fairly ran to the door as soon as it swung shut and locked it. Genie, on the other hand, ran to the trash and emptied the contents of her stomach.

Al turned back to the counter and fell against it, her body now shaking as the adrenaline that had been coursing through it drained away.

"Is Race okay?" Genie asked when she had finally finished heaving. She wiped her mouth with a towel and went to rinse her mouth out at the sink in the back. Al followed.

"He's pretty beat up, but he oughta be fine." Al rested both hands on her rounded belly, thankful her baby hadn't sustained any damage in the ordeal. She wished it wasn't in danger every time that she was. "He showed up on my doorstep last night."

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I oughta be askin' you that question. He had you at gunpoint!"

"M'fine. I just wanna get out of 'ere." Genie splashed her face with water. "I've still work to do, but I'll get back to it when my nerves aren't all riled up."

"I don't like this," Al mumbled more to herself than Genie. Then with a sigh, she waved for her friend to follow her. "Let's get back to my place. It's safah. 'Sides I got a few choice woids I wanna share with a certain gamblah there."

* * *

Jenna hesitated a moment after she entered Tibby's behind Runner. The place was packed with boys, all rowdy and loud. It was enough to overwhelm a body. She wasn't so sure coming to lunch with him was such a good idea. She wasn't one for big crowds, particularly those of the opposite sex. There were a few girls, but the overwhelming majority in the small restaurant was male.

Runner seemed to sense her hesitation and paused to reassure her. "Come on, Listener's savin' us a table ovah there." He jerked his head to the opposite side of the room where Listener was sitting across from Les, playing with his straw while Les undoubtedly talked his ear off.

She nodded and Runner started off again with Jenna close behind. A couple of the boys called out to ask about her. Runner told them her name was Freckles and ignored the rest of the questions. That is, he ignored everyone until one of the boys nearby leaned back in his chair and wolf-whistled at her. Jenna's stomach had dropped, but before she could react any further, Runner had kicked out and knocked the boy's chair out from under him. The immediate reaction of everyone in the vicinity was an outburst of laughter, though the kid sprawled on the floor seemed less than happy.

"That's all I wanna hear o' that," Runner told him seriously before waving Jenna past him. The whole scene had somehow managed to put Jenna much more at ease and she chose the seat next to Listener.

"What? You don't wanna sit next to me?" Les complained loudly, though with a half grin on his face.

"No, I don't," she answered shortly, causing Runner to laugh.

"You're right. She doesn't like you." He laughed harder when Les threw him a glare.

The Jacobs boy turned to Jenna with an irritated look. "What're you doin' outta the house anyway? I was startin' to think you were too scared to leave on your own."

Jenna huffed. "I felt like takin' a walk."

"With Runner? You that much of a coward that you can't walk on ya own?" Les shot back.

Jenna clenched her teeth. "I am _not_ a coward, dimwit. I ran into him."

"Lay off, Les," Listener reprimanded the boy across from him, looking like he was surprised at the boy's actions. Jenna didn't see why he ought to be surprised. Les was always like this with her. "What's it mattah anyway? Let's figure out what we're gonna eat."

Les mumbled something about Listener always taking the girl's side and snatched his menu up. Jenna picked up her menu and squirmed, unable to make heads or tails of the thing. She took a side glance at Listener's menu to make sure hers wasn't upside down or anything and pretended to browse it. She didn't need Les making fun of her for her inability to read next. She decided to look to her right and try to figure out what the rest of the boys were eating, finally settling on asking for a hotdog and a soda.

Then again, what if that was more than she could pay? How much was the food here? She knew her numbers, even if she couldn't read, so she scanned the prices and relaxed when she saw that most items were pretty cheap.

The waiter came to take their orders and their menus, then came back with their food less than five minutes later. The four dug in.

"So how were things on the bridge today?" Runner asked after swallowing a mouthful of his burger. "Any trouble from Brooklyn?"

Jenna perked up at this. She had picked up some information about the deal with Brooklyn during her first night at the Jacobs' house, but she had been rather distracted throughout the conversation and was curious to fill in the gaps in her knowledge of the situation. From what she heard it was all rather interesting, and she would be lying if she said didn't have harsh feelings toward the Brooklyn newsies and was glad she wasn't the only one.

"Quiet as far as I can tell. I mean, they didn't give me any trouble or nothin'." Listener took another bite and barely chewed before swallowing it. "It's not like I keep an eye on 'em the whole time, though, I have no idea what they might be up to on their side o' the Bridge."

"Who do they have posted this week?" Les asked around a mouthful of food.

"Looked like Salt to me, but I get he an' his brudder confused," Listener shrugged.

"Huh, looks like Jett's backin' down a bit," Les said, looking to Runner for affirmation.

Runner looked skeptical, "Or tryin'a take us off our guard. I do feel bettah with Salt or his bruddah stationed there, though."

"Why?" Jenna asked after taking a sip of her coke. "He weak or somethin'?"

Listener snorted at her remark, though she saw no reason for it to be that funny. "Naw, he's just bettah than some o' the other options Jett coulda picked."

"Not all o' Brooklyn is bad," Runner answered before shoving a chip into his mouth.

Les coughed loudly into his hand, intentionally doing a bad job at covering up his words. "Most are."

Runner rolled his eyes at his friend and shoved his shoulder. "Salt an' his bruddah, are a hell of a lot tamer than most o' the othahs. If they're the ones on the bridge, we don't gotta worry about them crossin' over to cause trouble."

"Oh, makes sense." Jenna took the last bite of her hotdog, pleased with the nourished feeling in her body. She was beginning to enjoy this whole well-fed thing she had going on ever since Al and David took her in.

**_Disclaimer: Salt is property of yours truly. Paul Kelly and the Five Points Gang, however, are real entities that operated in Manhattan about this time. _**


	10. Stay

_**Author's Note: Wow. Today has been long and crazy and I'm already exhausted. Not crazy in a bad way, just busy. My burn is slowly but surely healing. The doctor says it'll definitely scar, but I'm not too concerned. I mean, that's just a good excuse to get a cool tattoo over it. :) I'm a pretty big fan of tattooing. Lol. Anyway, don't forget to nominate me or someone else you think is worthy for the NYNA awards. Nominations close on July 15th. Check out my profile for more info! **_

_**A huge thank you to Ealasaid Una, natalieblack2, Rachel, and JacobsConlonBrooklynNewsie for y'all's awesome reviews. Y'all definitely had me laughing and smiling these past few days. :)**_

**Chapter 10- Stay**

__And how come it's so hard?  
It's not always easy and  
Sometimes life can be deceiving  
I'll tell you one thing, it's so much better when we're together.  
~Better Together: Jack Johnson~

When they finished their meals, Runner and Les ended up having to go talk to some leaders in Queens about the breaching of territory and discuss who they would side with if it came down to a newsie war. Listener was tasked with taking Jenna back to the Jacobs' apartment, though she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to go back just yet. She figured that she could chill on the fire escape though, if need be, until Al came home.

She trudged beside the tall, coal-headed newsie as they passed through crowded streets.

"So why do they call ya Listener?" she asked after a couple of minutes.

"When I first came to the Lodge, I didn't talk for about the first year except to sell papes," he shrugged. "But I was always listenin'. I liked to know what was goin' on. So they called me Listener. I'm still that way, sorta, but I do talk now."

Jenna pondered this for a moment. "You evah wonder if them namin' you that is why you're a listener now?" She turned her head toward him and watched as his lips turned down in a frown. Thinking she'd offended him, she winced. "Sorry, I don't mean to get in your business."

"No, you're fine," he answered back quickly. "I was just thinking it ovah. I dunno, but that's a interestin' idea."

"You got another name 'sides Listener?" Jenna asked, twisting a strand of her hair between her fingers.

"Do you?"

"Yeah, Jenna. You already know that."

"Jenna what?"

"I asked first," Jenna pointed out.

"Joey. Joey Scott."

"Jenna Abrams."

They walked in silence for a few more minutes, rounding two corners before Jenna thought of a safe question she could ask. She wanted to ask how he had ended up with the newsies, but something told her he would expect an answer of the same manner in return. She wasn't ready to tell that story yet and was thankful no one had pushed her to thus far. She didn't want that to end now.

Instead, she asked the safer question, "So is Queens gonna help Manhattan if it turns into a newsie war?"

Listener tilted his head back as if he were looking to the sky for an answer. "Probably, but even if a newsie war 'tween us an' Brooklyn breaks out, they still might not get involved. Othah boroughs usually try to keep their hands outta the mess if they can help it."

"It can't be that bad, can it?"

Listener gave her an appraising look that, if Les had worn it would have offended her, but didn't bother her when Listener did. "What would those boys who attacked you've done if they caught ya 'fore Les and Runner stepped in?"

Jenna felt a chill run down her spine and her mouth went dry. She really didn't want to answer that question or even think about it.

Listener nodded, though he didn't seem to notice her how deep her reaction ran. He was still looking forward while he spoke. "Exactly. They would've done bad things. They're just as ruthless when it comes to fightin'. They ain't afraid to shed blood. We aren't eithah, we're just more careful about it. We don't like killin' people if we don't have to."

"Have any of you ever had to?" Jenna questioned.

Listener turned his head away and Jenna could almost see the wall went up around him when he did. She didn't know how to fix it, so she let it sit there, a barrier between them, for the rest of the walk back. It was an uncomfortable silence and she wondered if it would help or hurt the situation if she apologized. Unsure of the answer, she ignored it, pretending to study her surroundings instead.

Jenna turned to him as they approached the building, finally having something she could say. "Thanks for walkin' me back, I would never've been able to find it on my own."

"No problem," Listener answered. Then he paused, "If you don't mind me askin', how long are you gonna stay with the Jacobs?"

The question made Jenna pause. She honestly didn't know the answer and didn't really want to consider it, though she knew she needed to. How long would the Jacobs put up with her anyway? When that baby came along, they weren't going to want her taking up its room anymore.

She shrugged, "I dunno." But the question sat on her mind like a misplaced brick for the rest of the day. She had been a fool to start thinking of the place as home. She didn't belong there. She didn't belong anywhere.

When they reached the door to the apartment, there were raised voices again. Listener knocked, his eyebrows raised to his hairline. When no one answered, he tried the handle and sighed. "They seem a lil' busy."

"It's okay," Jenna responded, taking a step to her right to pull the key out of the crack next to the door where she had seen Al take and replace it countless times now. She showed it to him and he moved aside while she unlocked the door and pushed it open.

"Race, if ya weren't so bloody bruised I'd slap ya clean across the face," a woman with vibrant red hair that hung half out of her bun yelled in a strong Irish brogue, anger clearly burning in her eyes.

"I said I was sorry. If I'd known any of this was gonna happen I-"

David was on the other side of the room talking to Al and he looked angrier than Jenna had ever seen him. His face was bright red and his eyes looked ready to bulge out of his head. "He said _what _to you? I'll kill 'im!"

Jenna took an involuntary step backward as Listener shut the door behind them. All the tension and anger in the room made her feel anxious. Her heart began to race and she took another step back, wishing she had gone back to the Lodge instead of this place. She saw Listener turn to look at her out of the corner of her eye and purposely ignored him, willing herself to calm down.

"Jenna? Jenna, are you okay?"

She couldn't bring herself to answer. She just stared, wide-eyed at the scene in front of her, feeling her heart pound a tattoo into her rib cage.

Then an ear-splitting whistle pierced the air and Jenna clapped her hands over her ears. Torn out of her terror, she turned enough to see Listener with both his index fingers on either side of his mouth as he created the painful sound. The yelling ceased and all eyes turned on him. Listener calmly pulled his fingers from his mouth and wiped them on the pockets of his tan pants.

"You were freaking Jenna out," he shrugged by way of explanation. His voice was calm and collected as if he hadn't really noticed that everyone had just been freaking out two moments before. "What happened?"

Al, who seemed to be the most clear-headed out of everyone in the room, sighed and moved to sit down in her chair. Everyone seemed to use that as an unspoken clue to take a seat and did so. The ginger woman took David's usual seat after throwing a dark scowl at Racetrack. She seemed to choose the spot that was as far away from him as she could manage.

David, on the opposite end of the spectrum, seemed like he wasn't about to let a gap of more than three feet separate he and his wife. He chose to stand beside the bright red chair, his right elbow leaning on its high back while he tugged on his ear in frustration. Racetrack took a seat at the far end of the couch just before Jenna and Listener sat, Jenna opting for the side closest to the door.

"Race 'ere has apparently got 'imself in trouble with the Five Points Gang," Al said, looking as if she'd like nothing better than to take a very long nap right now. Her entire countenance was exhausted. This, of course, didn't surprise Jenna. After all, she had been the one that had woken up screaming bloody murder last night. "Two of its members showed up at Genie's shop this mornin' tryin'a find 'im. Apparently the Delancey bruddahs have become gangsters. They grabbed us, but I knocked out Morris with a broomstick and Oscar pulled a gun on Genie, so I told 'em Paul Kelly was my cousin an' 'e bought it, so we got away."

Listener raised an eyebrow. "The Delanceys? Damn."

Jenna coughed. "Who are the Delancey brothers?"

Al stuck her tongue in her cheek, like she was trying to decide where to start, but Racetrack beat her to it.

"The Delanceys are two no-good, rotten thugs that used to cause us trouble when we was kids. They used to terrorize the younger newsies and they beat up Al an' David real good once with the help of anothah newsie that hate them." Both David and Al grimaced at the memory and Jenna was both surprised and curious. There was a lot about these people that she didn't know and she wondered what else had happened to them. Was it one of these Delanceys who tried to kill Al and stabbed David? Maybe it was during this beating Racetrack was referring to. "Jack found 'em before they were too damaged and gave the bastards a run for their money."

"An' Sarah broke Oscar's nose a couple years latah when the two of us ran into 'em an' they tried to start something," Al reminded him, almost smiling at the memory. She shook her head and looked at Jenna. "Point is, they're bad guys an' once they find out I lied, they're gonna be gunnin' to bump me off too."

Racetrack's head dropped into his hands, the former newsboy looking more than a little defeated.

Genie groaned, "Ya mean to say t'isn't true? About your bein' related to Paul Kelly?"

Al almost laughed, "In this case, I wish it were. Like Oscar said, my given name's Sullivan. Kelly was just the foist name Jack picked off the top of 'is 'ead when we were kids. Came in 'andy though."

Another groan. "So they know where me shop is now an' that Racetrack has a soft spot for me. This is just dandy."

"So," Jenna found herself asking. "What's gonna happen now?"

David sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. "We lay low for a while, especially you, Racetrack. You shouldn't leave the house for a while." Racetrack opened his mouth, but closed it after another heavy glare from Genie. "Al, Genie, you two don't go anywhere without an escort. And by escort, I mean me, Logan, Les, Runner, or Listener. Or Jack, when 'e gets here."

Al crossed her arms over her chest and pressed her lips together in irritation at the same time that Genie started to retort. "I can't be expected to do that. I've got a business to run. Let's just call the police."

Nearly everyone else in the room recoiled at the suggestion. David sighed. "Chances are, they've infiltrated the bulls. So, if you wanna call 'em to have someone patrol near your shop, go right ahead. Just keep quiet about Race an' don't mention Al. If they sniff 'im out ovah here, the bulls won't be an obstacle."

Genie wriggled in her seat and started absently twisting the ends of her hair, looking severely put out. "Well then there's no point in that is there?" she commented bitterly.

"Everyone's gotta make sure no one's followin' 'em when they go home, too," Listener added, hesitant but serious. "You don't want them findin' out where ya live if you can 'elp it."

Racetrack jumped to his feet, startling about half the occupants in the room.

"It was stupid o' me to come 'ere. You're all in dangah 'cause of me," his dark eyes were wide and, paired with the mottled bruising on his face, made him look crazy. "I'm so sorry."

He started toward the door and Al jumped out of her chair, starting to form a retort. David reached out and caught his bicep before she could get out more than two syllables.

"Stay, Race," he said firmly. "You go off by yourself an' you're dead."

"Stay here an' they're dead," Racetrack said, jerking his arm out of David's grasp and waving it in the general direction of Genie and Al. "I'll take my chances."

"We're already_ in_ danger," Genie pointed out from where she sat, looking worried despite herself. "Your leavin' won't change nothin' and you'll do us no good dead."

Al moved around to where she was face to face with Racetrack and she put her hands on either side of his face. "Look at me. We need you 'ere. We need you _alive_. I can't lose anothah bruddah."

The fight seemed to go out of the sailor and his shoulders slumped forward. Al's hands slid from the side of her face and she took a breath of relief as they settled onto her stomach. Jenna wondered if she was referring to an actual brother that had died or if she was talking about the one who was visiting soon.

"Besides," David added, clapping his hand on the other man's shoulder. "I'll feel better about goin' to work if I know you're here."


	11. Life

_**Author's Note: Sorry I didn't upload on Monday. I promise I didn't wound myself again. I was simply battling a case of writer's block . . . which brings me to a slightly sad announcement. I'm going to have to start uploading once a week instead of twice. I'm just not writing this story fast enough to be able to keep going at this pace, even if I do already have it all planned out. :/ I'm going to make it Mondays, though, since those are pretty terrible and hopefully the update will be able to make them a little better. :)  
Many thank you's to natalieblack2, Ealasaid Una, autumnamberleaves, and Rachel for your lovely reviews. Please keep them coming. They really mean a lot to me and always manage to put a smile on my face. **_

**Chapter 11- Life**

Runner yawned and rubbed at his eyes the next morning. He never seemed to get enough sleep, it seemed, and today was no exception. He slid out of bed and into the already crowded washroom. Logan had made his rounds in waking everyone up about fifteen minutes ago, but he and the boys knew that Runner woke up in his own time. He was rarely late and generally had a good reason if he was. Besides, being the leader, one of the other boys would get him his papers if he couldn't make it in time.

He trudged his way past the other boys to an open sink, his mind already turning over the dilemma of Al and Racetrack being targets of the Five Points Gang. Listener had come back to report on the matter yesterday after having walked Jenna home from Tibby's and the problem had been nagging Runner ever since. Al was the closest thing he had to a mother or a sister and he wasn't about to let this problem slide by, simply hoping it would all turn out okay. That wasn't like him in the slightest. He was the kind of person who always took an active stance in the problems that affected the people he cared about. If he could do something, he would.

This was the reason his brain was working overtime as he shaved his face that morning, only paying enough attention to the task at hand to keep him from nicking himself.

He would have to start positioning an older newsboy in front of Al's house, he decided, either consistently working there or taking shifts the way he had them working the Brooklyn Bridge. He made a mental note to ask Listener who usually sold over there so he could rearrange it. He knew he wouldn't be the only one who would breathe easier if there was someone trustworthy stationed near the Jacobs' apartment all day.

He made a humming sound in the back of his throat as he shook the shaving cream and bits of hair from his razor into the sink before applying it to his face again. While he was at it, he ought to do the same for both Genie and Sarah. The Delancey brothers, and most thugs he had come in contact with during his fifteen years, weren't above taking advantage of women who were unprotected. Al had David and Racetrack at her place. Sarah was alone most of the day and Genie working. No threat had been made toward Sarah Jacobs just yet, but the Delanceys were the type to hold grudges and play dirty. It would be better safe than sorry. Les would certainly be thankful for that. In fact, Runner wouldn't be surprised if his best friend hadn't played hooky today in order to keep an eye on his older sister.

When he finished in the washroom, he went back to his bed and pulled on the trousers hanging over it, then his green button-down shirt. Listener was sitting on Runner's bunk while he pulled on his boots.

"Hey, who's workin' the Bridge this week?"

The coal-headed youth rubbed at his eye with the back of his wrist before continuing to tie up his laces. "That'd be Salamander."

Runner nodded. Salamander was an eighteen-year-old redhead who had been living on the streets and selling papes for years. It was only a few weeks after Al and Jack moved upstairs that he moved into the Lodge and he had been there ever since. Now he was looking for another job in his free time, since he was well aware that his newsboy days were going to have to come to a close soon. The kid was pretty laid-back and easy-going. He wouldn't have to worry about him.

"I'm thinkin' we oughta move some o' the boys," Runner told his friend as he finished doing up the buttons of his shirt. Listener looked up. "I know I'd feel a lot bettah if we had someone watchin' Davy, Sarah, and Genie's buildings. I'm sure I'm not the only one."

"There's an idea," Listener nodded. "Matches usually sells pretty close to Sarah's. I can ask 'im to move a little if ya want. 'Sides he likes Sarah. She always buys her pape from 'im anyways."

Runner nodded. "Who sells near Genie?"

"Tim, I'm pretty sure."

Tim was eight or nine, one of the youngest Lodge kids they had. "I'll switch with 'im, at least for now. Genie won't take kindly to bein' followed unless it's someone she knows well. You wanna take Al's place?"

Listener nodded, but quirked an eyebrow. "I figured you'd wanna watch them yourself."

The fifteen year-old shrugged. "I trust ya. Plus, with Race and David there, I'm more worried about Genie right now. In fact, once Jack gets back, I'll prolly have ya join me."

Listener seemed to concede the point and stood to his feet.

"That's settled then." Runner moved to reach for his own shoes. "Stay nearby 'til sundown if you can manage it. An' if anyone leaves by themselves follow 'em, particularly Al, you know how stubborn she can be. Tell Matches to do the same for Sarah."

An hour and a half later, Runner was standing at Genie's door, his papers in hand and feeling pretty good about his plan to have he and his boys keep an eye on everyone. He had stopped by the Jacobs' apartment with Listener in order to help explain everything and the relief on David's face was enough to make Runner firm in his thinking that he was doing the right thing. David had clearly been nervous about leaving Al alone while he went to work, even with Racetrack there to watch out for her. The extra protection put the man more at ease and, if that was the only benefit that came from this arrangement, it was worth it. Even Jenna looked relieved when she had heard the plan, another thing Runner was pleased with.

He and Listener had spent half the walk that morning discussing the Al and David's new tenant. Jenna was a mystery to all of them from the moment she walked into their lives. She had been around for a little over two weeks now and she was no less a mystery to any of them. As far as he could tell, even Al was pretty clueless about where this girl came from or what had happened to her. Of course, this wasn't exactly uncommon for kids they met on the street, but that never kept any of them from being curious.

Listener had noted that the girl was well acquainted with fear - something that was immediately noticeable - and that she tended to panic in confrontational (physical or otherwise) situations - something else Runner had noticed immediately. He subconsciously rubbed the back of his hand; the skin was almost healed where she had clawed him. They all suspected abuse of some sort, as well as a rough time on the New York City streets. After all, a girl from Pennsylvania probably had a pretty rough time adjusting to the streets around here.

The door swung open and Genie screamed upon laying eyes on him, jumping backward out of fear as she half-swung the door shut in her fright. She startled Runner enough with her scream to make him yell a little too. She clutched her chest and scowled at him while she tried to catch her breath.

"Ya nearly gave me a heart attack," she admonished with a stern look. "What, for the love of God, are you doin' plantin' yourself on my doorstep like that?"

"Sorry," Runner shrugged. "I rang the buzzah. Guess you didn't 'ear it."

"It's broken, lad." She glanced behind him and waved him in, still trying to calm her heart. "Come. Get inside. What're you in need of?"

Runner remained on the doorstep. "Nothin'. I just wanted to let you know that I'll be sellin' nearby to keep an eye on you'n your 'ouse. Ya know, in case you need me."

"You don't need ta-"

"It ain't gonna bother me none an' it'll make you feel safah, I'm sure. So don't try to convince me otherwise. I got one o' my boys outside Al and Sarah's houses too."

Genie sighed. "Well, I'm off today anyway. Come in at lunch or when ya get thirsty. At least let me feed ya if I can't stop you."

Runner nodded and tipped his hat at the ginger woman and headed out to the street to do his selling.

* * *

Al yawned and held her eyes wide in an attempt to wake herself up. She stood outside her door with it cracked open while she took a smoke. If Kloppman had taught her anything in her years at the Lodge, it was that smoking indoors was unacceptable. He had made the rule to keep the boys from accidentally burning down his livelihood, something that would very likely have happened with that many teenage smokers living in such a small space, and it had managed to stick with her all these years. The very idea of smoking inside her home bothered her, thus the reason she was outside now.

Racetrack came out the door walking backwards and slightly bent over while he dragged two kitchen chairs out with him. Al shook her head at him, but smiled and sat in the chair he offered her. He planted himself down beside her and lit up a cigar.

She breathed in the smell of it as the soft breeze blew the cigar smoke in her direction. She had missed that scent. It reminded her of Racetrack every time she caught a whiff of it. It was nice to have him back around. This whole sailing business had him away from home far more often than she liked. He had always been a brother to her and she considered him such. He was family.

"I don't think she likes me," Racetrack said after another puff, leaning back in his chair.

"It'll take her a while to warm up to ya," Al answered, her left hand drumming its fingers against her belly. Every few moments she'd feel the baby kick back in response, making her smile. "I'm not even sure she likes _me_ yet."

"Oh, she likes ya. Maybe not Davy, but she definitely likes you. After all, she hit me ovah the head with a rollin' pin because she thought I was hurtin' ya."

Al laughed and conceded with a shrug. She eyed her cigarette, willing it to burn slower. It was irritating how quickly that little ring of red ate away at the paper and tobacco. Her eyes felt heavy and swollen. She had been subject to more nightmares last night, courtesy of those dumbass Delancey brothers. It wasn't like she didn't have enough nightmare material without having her life and the lives of her family toyed with in the meantime.

Thankfully, with all the stress and issues that had to be dealt with yesterday, David hadn't found the chance to pester her more about what was going on. Or maybe he had simply caught the hint and decided to back off until she wasn't so upset. She knew her growing inability to sleep soundly was worrying him. After all, he was already freaked out enough because of Maggie's death during childbirth only a few years ago. Before she had been able to appease him with the whole _She was sick. I'm healthy._ bit, but this lack of sleep would be bound to affect her health if she didn't do something about it.

Al knew all this to be true and knew she needed to do something about this, but that very likely meant she needed to talk about how she was feeling. Anyone who knew Al for more than a few days knew she didn't deal well with emotions, particularly when they're her own. Other people's emotions made her uncomfortable, but her own were an entity that she avoided often as possible. She didn't like being vulnerable and she didn't like dealing with problems that weren't physical. That was a part of David's skill set, not her own.

She had been so distracted by these thoughts and her own drowsiness that she didn't notice how low her cigarette had reached, causing her to burn her fingers as the little orange tip worked its way between them. She cursed and dropped it onto the cement beneath her. See? If that had happened indoors, she would have set something on fire or at least left a circle of black on her old, but decent, carpet.

Racetrack chuckled and she scowled at him.

"You look exhausted," he pointed out. "Why don't you take a nap or somethin'?"

Al shrugged. "Too much to get done." She didn't want to admit that the idea of sleeping freaked her out right now. She didn't want to close her eyes right now for fear of the images that would dance behind them.

Racetrack rolled his eyes. "Bullshit. I can read you like a map, Al. Don't even bother lyin' to me. Davy says you've been looking tired for days, but he only found out about ya havin' nightmares that night you woke 'im screamin'. How long 'ave they been goin' on?"

Al turned her head away, knowing there was no good answer for this. She had been having nightmares on and off for weeks now. They had been manageable before and she could usually go back to sleep afterward. It was only recently they had become nightly occurrences and pretty bad ones.

Racetrack groaned, her silence being enough to give him a pretty good idea of the answer. "Al, this isn't-"

"Why've you been talkin' about Genie so much to ya sailor buddies?" Al cut him off, switching the subject. "I thought you said you were ovah her." She turned her head to look at him, her face a mask stubbornness with a hint of curiosity. The question came out sounding more rude than she had intended it to, but she made no move to amend it.

Racetrack seemed to consider his options, looking a little torn between the two, before responding. "Don't think I've forgotten this conversation, but I'll give ya this one." He took a long pause as if he were turning the question over in his head. He sighed. "Genie's just not one o' those you get over so easily."

Al found a grin fighting its way onto her lips, though she tried to suppress it. "So ya still like 'er?"

"It doesn't really mattah, does it? She don't like me." Racetrack looked dejected. "An' she nevah will after this mess I've dragged 'er into."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Al responded. Racetrack sat up in his seat like he was expecting her to confess that Genie had secretly loved him from the start. "I'm not sayin' she likes ya," she told him quickly, feeling a pang as his face fell. "We both know she's pretty pissed right now anyway. I'm just sayin' that you're a catch, even with ya failings and dumbass moves like the one you pulled gamblin' with Paul Kelly. Even if she doesn't end up with you, you'll find someone else who 'preciates you for you."

He groaned, regardless of her encouragement. "She was just startin' to warm up to me an' now this catastrophe happens. Why does this always happen to me?"

Al rolled her eyes and reached over to pat him on the shoulder. "That's life, hon. Get used to it."

**_Disclaimer: Salamander is my original character. And this is not the first time he's been mentioned in one of my stories? Brownie points to whoever can tell me what story and chapter his first appearance was in. :)_**


	12. Whore

_**Author's Note: Thank y'all so much for your patience. I hate that I had to move down to one a week, but it was a necessary cut. Please don't forget to continue nominating the stories that you think should win this NYNA's Summer Reading Contest. It doesn't have to be me that you nominate, just whoever you think deserves it. Though I would be honored to be nominated even more. :) Check out my profile for more info.  
And thank you so much to natalieblack2, Ealasaid Una, autumnamberleaves, and Jill Kelly for your wonderful reviews. Y'all are the best. :)**_

**Chapter 12- Whore**

"The pre-si-dent g-ave no com-ment on . . . the mat-ter. Sus-pick-eye-us-"

"Suspicious," Al corrected Jenna's pronunciation while knitting at her side. She paused to point to the word. "Sometimes when a woid ends with a -tious or -cious, it makes a 'shh' sound."

"Why?" Jenna asked, showing only the slightest irritation at having been corrected.

Al shrugged. "Guess it sounds bettah? You'll have to ask Davy 'bout that kinda stuff. He knows even more about readin' than I do. He loined it in a school and I loined it from the newsies . . . and life."

Jenna rolled her eyes and went back to sounding out the words on the old newspaper they had decided to practice from. Ever since the girl had mentioned her inability to read, Al had been taking a few minutes every day to work on teaching Jenna how to read and write. Now that they were basically confined to the house unless necessity deemed them leave, the lessons were much lengthier. Jenna was a good sport, though. It seemed she wanted to learn just as much as Al wanted to teach her, though the struggle was doing its job in dampening her fervor.

Al listened intently, stopping the girl every few seconds to correct her pronunciation or help her out, often explaining exceptions and the reasons behind certain things. Racetrack even helped out every few minutes from where he lay sprawled across David's armchair reading the day's paper. For the most part, he was too wrapped up in what it said to pay any attention, but when he caught something Al had missed or knew an explanation/exception she didn't, he wasn't afraid to butt in.

At first this annoyed Jenna, but she seemed to be more open after a few times, likely realizing that Race knew what he was talking about and wasn't just displaying his knowledge for vanity's sake.

Finally, after about an hour of this, Racetrack threw down his newspaper, having finished it. "I'm bored," he moaned.

Al had been waiting for this all morning. It had only been yesterday that David had made it clear that they were to stay indoors and Racetrack wasn't one to stay still. Of course, Al wasn't either, but she was doing her best not to complain so the other two in the room with her wouldn't start.

"We have books," Al answered, waving her hand at the small stack of books between Al and David's chairs.

"I just read a whole newspaper," Race deadpanned. "I don't wanna read a book."

"Not my problem. Find somethin' to entertain yourself with."

Racetrack groaned and rolled onto his feet before stomping toward the kitchen.

"What's he doing?" Jenna questioned, setting aside the newspaper.

"Cooking?" Al guessed.

"He knows how to cook?"

"He taught me. Well, helped teach me," Al answered with the slightest of shrugs. "Logan, Sarah, an' David's mothah helped a lot too."

The two girls stood, Al taking a considerable bit more effort in doing so, and followed him into the kitchen. Sure enough, Racetrack was pulling out pans and eyeing the pantry.

"We need flour," he pointed out. "An' some chocolate. We're low on milk an' there's one egg left." He turned to Al, unspoken questioning in his eyes.

"No."

"But-"

"I don't care. It's too dangerous. You're the one they're lookin' for."

"Then they'll find me an' stop huntin' you. It's a win-win. If they don't, we've got more food." Racetrack had an obstinate look in his eye and Al found herself wanting to smack him in the face. She restrained herself, placing the itching hand atop her belly instead.

"That's not a win-win."

"Depends on your perspective."

Al pressed her lips together and glared at him. Two could play at this game.

Slowly, a smirk made its way onto her lips and she acquired a haughty look in her eyes. "You leave this apartment an' I'll follow you."

It was as if the wind had been knocked out of him. "No you-"

"Try me."

Racetrack growled out of irritation. "You're an idiot."

"So are you," she responded. "Besides, when 'ave you evah known the Delancey bruddahs to stop hatin' a newsie. They'll try to kill me anyway."

The sailor was silent for a long while, his resolve clearly crumbling. Finally, he made his way over to a chair and collapsed into it. "We still need groceries."

There was no denying that, Al realized. It was true; they did need them. She had intended to purchase them today, but yesterday's events had managed to stifle that plan. "Maybe Davy'll let me-"

"Oh no, if I'm stuck here, you are too. They want you just as much as me now." Racetrack rubbed at his chin. "'Sides you got a baby in ya. It goes where you do. You'd be puttin' it in danger too."

That was when Jenna, who had been silently spectating the entire argument, spoke up. "I'll go." Both sets of eyes turned to look at her, so she continued, "They ain't lookin' for me. They don't even know who I am. I'd be fine."

Al struggled with the idea, not wanting to put the girl in any danger, but they did need groceries and the shops would be closed before David came home. She could always ask one of the newsboys to get her something, but they were already going out of the way to keep watch on her home and she didn't want to cost them any potential sales. She had seen the headlines recently, they were already having to do a good deal of work to sell those papers.

Before Al could make up her mind, though, Racetrack was putting a wad of dollar bills he had produced from his pocket into Jenna's hands. Al gave him an irritated look and he rolled his eyes in response.

"You're gonna need to get flour, chocolate, eggs, milk," he looked over his shoulder to scan the counters. "An' bread. You need anything else, Al?"

Al huffed out a breath and shook her head no.

"Okay. Repeat those back to me."

"Chocolate, milk, flour, bread, and-" she paused, looking like the word was on the tip of her tongue, yet she couldn't quite taste it.

"Eggs," Al supplied.

"Eggs."

"That'a goil," Race smiled.

Jenna rolled her eyes and headed for the door.

"Take the basket by the door," Al called after her. "And please be careful."

They heard the door open. "I will," Jenna called back and she was gone.

"With all that eye-rollin' she does, she reminds me a lot o' you," Racetrack said as Al sat down in the chair across the table from him.

"Shut up, Race."

* * *

Listener wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and settled his cap back where it normally sat on his head. "I'm tellin' you, if Jett wants to talk to Runner then he can wait a couple hours or 'til tomorrow. He don't needa see him right now."

The boy in front of him stood a little taller than Listener's shoulders and had dark red hair that was almost brown He was a Brooklynite, one of Jett's boys, and just as nasty as the rest of them.

"Listen 'ere, ya dolt. I got orders to make sure this message reaches Runner."

"And I'll make sure they get to 'im," he responded, trying not to get frustrated. "Go home, Snark. Go sell ya papes in your borough and let me sell mine."

"Just tell me where 'e is and I'll do just that."

"I already told ya no. It ain't any of your business where 'e is." Listener was beginning to get exasperated, but he didn't let it show. He wasn't one to grow angry quickly. He figured Runner wouldn't want Brooklyn to know he was protecting Genie's house. The less information they had right now the better. Listener didn't want to risk the chance that he could be giving even the slightest bit extra advantage to the troublesome borough. "You're scarin' off my customers. Stop botherin' me, Snark."

"Why are you ovah here anyway? This ain't your usual spot an' where is Runner if he ain't at his?" Snark questioned, looking suspicious. "I think you're schemin' something."

"No, we're not," Listener sighed, now concerned with how the tale was going to be represented to the king of Brooklyn. He didn't want this kid stirring up the waters when there was nothing for them to get riled up about. "Runner just has to tend to some family matters." Technically, Listener was the one watching over the people Runner considered his family, but it was close enough to the truth that it would do for now.

"Family matters?" Snark scoffed. "That's rich! Everyone from here to Jersey knows Runner lives in the Lodge. He ain't got no family. His mom was a whore an' she's dead."

"You shut your mouth 'fore you start somethin' you can't finish," Listener growled, finally starting to get angry. "Family don't have to be blood. It can be more'n that."

The words seemed to go right over Snark's head. In fact, he was now scowling at something over Listener's shoulder and chose now to address whoever it was. "What the hell're you lookin' at?"

Listener glanced over his shoulder to find Jenna standing nearby, her brows furrowed in consternation, and he wondered just how much she had heard or if she thought he was actually in danger. "Go back inside, Freckles," he told her. "Everything's fine."

"Oh, so this is what the mighty leadah's up to," Snark said, looking smug. "He's shirkin' his sellin' to louse about with prostitutes."

Instead of retreating, Jenna came stomping forward. "I'm not a prostitute," she growled dangerously.

Snark made a disbelieving sound in the back of his throat. "I know a whore when I see one."

Listener felt his jaw tightening as he struggled to control his anger. This newsboy was toeing the line and he was going to put an end to it. "Shut ya damn mouth, Snark, or I'll knock that trash you're talkin' right outta you. Go back to Brooklyn. You aren't wanted 'ere."

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jenna standing with her hands clenched at her sides and her mouth curled up in disgust at the boy in front of her. Listener felt the urge to move in front of her, keep her out of sight, but Snark spoke before he could do anything.

"Fine, I'll tell Jett what I saw here. You'll be hearin' from us soon," Snark responded through narrowed eyes.

He started to turn away, then paused and gave Jenna a dirty look. He spat at her feet, a good portion of the saliva landing on her worn shoes. Disgusted, Jenna kicked out at him, not doing much damage but effectively wiping the spit on his own pant leg. Snark got a dangerous look in his eye.

"You dirty whore," he snarled and lunged for her, but Listener moved in front of the girl before the Brooklynite could reach her. He bumped off of Listener's chest and stumbled backward.

Balling up the front of the boy's collar in his fist, Listener pulled up just enough to make the boy stand on his toes and leaned down to where their faces were inches away. "Get the hell outta Manhattan now," Listener hissed through clenched teeth. "If I see you on our toif again today I'll soak ya 'til you can't walk." He meant every word of it. Listener wasn't the type to exaggerate and Snark knew it. With a bit of a shove, he pushed Snark away from himself. The ginger adjusted his shirt angrily, but left quickly as he could manage without looking like a coward.

Listener didn't turn to Jenna until he was out of sight. Her face looked pale underneath her freckles and she looked to be on the verge of tears. He gave her a concerned look.

"Are you okay?" he asked, reaching out to set a hand on her shoulder.

She ducked away from it. Her eyes met his, but it was as if they looked through him instead of at him. "I'm not a whore," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Listener felt pain throbbing in his chest at the look on her face. He wanted to take her face in his hands and reassure her, but he kept his distance, knowing she wouldn't welcome his touch, especially not after those accusations.

"Of course you aren't. Don't listen to a thing that bastard says. Snark has always been an ass. He was just spouting out insults like he always does."

A tear rolled down her cheek. It was like she couldn't hear him. Taking deep, heavy breaths, she wrapped her arms around her middle, making the basket protrude from the crook of her right elbow at an odd angle.

"Jenna?" He was at a loss. What was he meant to say? As his name implied, he was a much better listener than talker. Right now, he was regretting that fact.

Jenna sniffed and ducked her head away so that he couldn't see his face before clearing her throat.

"Thanks," she mumbled before taking off down the street as quickly as her feet could carry her.

Confused and taken off-guard, Listener almost let her walk away on her own. It wasn't until she was just about to turn the corner that he remembered he was supposed to follow anyone who left the house. He cast a hesitating glance at the apartment building he had been standing in front of before taking off after her.

It didn't take long for him to catch up with her. She was hurrying along, but Listener was nearly twice her height and was nearly all legs. Her long brown braid beat rhythmically against the blue material of her dress as she walked and she kept her head down, so Listener merely fell in step beside her.

He glanced over his shoulder, feeling concerned that he was leaving the apartment behind him for seemingly no apparent reason, but he was intent on following Runner's instructions. Besides, Jenna seemed really upset. And though he didn't really know what to say or if he even should say anything, he wanted to be there for her in case she needed someone. Clearly, what Snark said had managed to hurt her deeply, though he didn't understand why and he wanted to do whatever he could to rectify the situation.

He couldn't help but feel responsible for the pain she was in right now. He should have made Snark leave sooner or done something before then. He could already tell that little ordeal was going to eat at him for the rest of the day.

Jenna wiped at her face with the back of her hands and Listener was certain this was to dry whatever tears she had spilled on their walk thus far. She finally sniffed and looked up at him. "What are you doing? Shouldn't you be watchin' the house?"

"Runner told me to follow anyone who leaves," Listener shrugged, still studying her with concern. "'Sides I was worried about you."

The girl looked a bit surprised and she turned her face away. "M'fine."

"Okay," Listener answerd, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Well where are ya headed then?"

"Al needs groceries."

"You even know where to get those?" Listener questioned, quirking an eyebrow at her.

She shrugged. "Sorta."

"Here," Listener responded tilting his head forward as if to indicate the road before them. "I'll show you the way."

_**Disclaimer: Snark is my original character. That is all.**_


	13. Nightmares

_**Author's Note: So this "only upload on Mondays" thing has relieved a lot of stress on me and given me more time to work on this story, as well as some of my other FF stories I've sorta let fall by the wayside (if any of y'all read my Narnia fics too, please be assured that I am still working on them and will start uploading again when I am able). In other news, I may have a job at a video store *fingers crossed* and the NYNA nominations are now closed, but votes will begin on the 20th. I don't know if I made it to the voting, but even if I didn't, I encourage y'all to check it out and vote for whoever did, because it means so much to those authors to receive awards like that. :)  
And let's not forget to thank natalieblack2, Woundedhearts, Ealasaid Una, and Guest for your oh-so-lovely reviews. Way to brighten my day, guys! :)**_

**Chapter 13- Nightmares**

Listener kept an eye on Jenna as they did the shopping. It didn't take too long for them to find the supplies they needed, but he was still antsy to get back to the apartment. He didn't like leaving Racetrack and Al on their own and, beyond that, Jenna's strong emotional reactions to seemingly random things things made him on edge. This was the third time he had witnessed one of her anxiety attacks and he worried that something else would set her off even worse than the times before.

He desperately wanted to ask what made her react to those particular circumstances the way she had, but didn't know how to approach it. She might run off or hate him if he brought it up. Despite her oddities, Listener liked Jenna and didn't want her to be upset with him.

Finally, he settled on a more roundabout way of questioning her: by simply stating a fact. "So, Runner says you come from Pennsylvania."

Jenna gave him a sideways glance as if she was trying to figure out why he was bringing this up. The basket swung between them in the same rhythm as their steps. Listener had taken it from her upon finishing the shopping trip and she was now toying with the ends of her braid.

"Yeah, I lived there."

"Your whole life?"

She shrugged. "More or less."

"What brought you to New York, if ya don't mind my askin'?" This seemed like a polite way to word it. It gave her the chance to shimmy out of answering.

At first, she didn't answer at all. Listener was in the midst of trying to figure out whether he ought to repeat it or drop it when she finally did respond.

"My parents died." She looked at her feet as she talked. The wide street allowed for her to do so without running into anyone, though she did graze a few passersby who grumbled angrily at her while continuing on their way. "My aunt and uncle live just outside the city. I moved it with them."

Listener nodded as they turned the corner and nearly tripped over a stray dog that was been sleeping in the middle of the now empty sidewalk. He did a sort of hop and a skip to get over it without kicking the mangy thing. "Why don't you live with them anymore?"

Jenna coughed as if surprised by the question. She hesitated, turning to look at him for the briefest of seconds before looking back down at the ground. "They aren't good people."

Listener didn't have to be told to know that there was a story behind that simple statement. He wanted to press her further, but sensed that this wasn't the right time. Instead, he nodded and shifted the basket from his left arm to his right. "My aunt and uncle weren't very nice people either."

This caught Jenna by off guard, she looked up and gave him a look of both curiosity and surprise. "What did they do to you?" she asked cautiously.

It was Listener's turn to look away now, but not because he was ashamed or unable to tell what he had to say. He was just trying to collect his thoughts. "They took me in when I was a kid. My mom had too many kids to care for so she gave me to them. They took me, but I guess they didn't know how to raise a kid. I think I scared 'em. So they tried to 'tame' me." He let out a dry sort of laugh. "My uncle though 'e could beat the devil out of me an' then I'd be a good boy. Guess he didn't know that all kids are stubborn when they're young, but that ain't how you fix 'em."

Jenna sucked in a breath. "That's terrible."

Listener shrugged. "Yeah, I guess it is." He looked over at her. "A lotta the newsboys have stories just like mine or worse. The goils too. Everybody's got a story to tell if they're willin' to." He gave her a meaningful look.

She averted her eyes. "How'd you get away?"

"I met Al when I was prolly seven or eight," he answered. The two turned another corner, this street just as empty as the last. "Uncle 'ad sent me to the store for somethin' or other an' she asked if I wanted to share some o' her bread 'cause I looked hungry. 'Course I didn't know she was a goil at the time. She used to dress like a boy to keep 'erself safe on the streets. Jack thought it was better that way. Anyway, I _was_ hungry, so I sat next to 'er and shared the bread. Afterwards, she asked me where my black eye was from an' I lied and told 'er I had fallen. She didn't believe me for a second."

Jenna was watching him while he spoke and for some reason it made him feel nervous. He took a breath and tried to find the right words to continue.

"Told me I could come to the Lodge if I evah needed a place to stay an' pointed it out so I'd be able to find it from there. I realized I was late then and scrambled to get home. She followed me, though I didn't know it just then. He was waiting outside our apartment building when I got home an' hit me twice. The third blow nevah landed. Al had knocked me outta the way and she took it instead."

Jenna looked impressed and Listener didn't blame her. It was still something like a dream to him when he recalled it. "She took it and cussed at 'im for hittin' a kid before grabbin' my hand and takin' off. I think he was so confused by how quickly things 'ad happened that he didn't realize what was 'appening until we was gone. Hell,_ I_ didn't know what was happenin' until we got to the Lodge."

"Wow," Jenna remarked quietly. "That must've really been somethin'."

Listener nodded.

"Why'd she follow you?"

"Like I said," Listener responded. "She didn't believe me. She said she just had a feelin'. She tends to do stuff like that. Likes to help people. A lot o' the 'Hattan newsies do." He paused and looked over at her. "How did you get away?"

"I ran off in the middle of the night."

"You seen 'em since?"

She shivered in the heat of the day. "No, an' I don't care to."

* * *

When they got back to the apartment, lunch was already prepared for them. Jenna dropped into her chair and started digging in. One of them had made roast beef sandwiches piled with meat. She ate heartily, allowing the food to fuel her energy, which felt frightful depleted at the moment. She blamed it on emotional exhaustion.

Listener was already halfway done with his sandwich by the time Jenna had taken her second bite. She raised an eyebrow at him and he grinned sheepishly. Well, it was as close to a sheepish grin as one could get without opening their mouth.

"You two seem to be gettin' along pretty well," Al commented as she finished up her own sandwich. She and Racetrack had started eating before the two teens had even returned. "I'm glad. Jenna needs a friend her own age."

Jenna shrunk down in her seat, feeling both embarrassed and pleased that Al was so impressed with her.

Listener swallowed the contents of his mouth in one gulp. "I ain't her only friend. She's got Runner an' Les too."

"That's right, Listener. I didn't think about them."

"Les?" Jenna snorted. "Sure."

Jenna thought even Al looked like she was trying to cover up disbelief.

"He's not as bad as ya make 'im out to be," Listener said, taking a sip from the glass of water in front of him. "He can be really nice when he wants to be."

"Which is nevah around me," Jenna answered with a knowing look.

"Les isn't-"

"Les is a diva," Al interrupted Listener, speaking plainly. "He doesn't meant to be, but 'e is. An' he prolly feels like you're a threat to 'im. Pay him no mind. He'll come around eventually." She stood and gathered both her and Racetrack's plates, taking them to the sink.

"A threat?" Jenna echoed, confused.

Racetrack cut in now. "If Les is bein' anything less than a gentleman to you then he needs a good talkin' to," he said firmly.

"Too bad you can't leave the apartment," Al taunted before answering Jenna's question. "I've known Les since he was a kid an' he's always been one for the spotlight. I'll wager he's upset 'cause he feels like me'n Davy aren't payin' as much attention to 'im anymore an' that bothers him. I could be wrong, but I think that's the problem. He'll get ovah it soon enough an' then he'll start actin' like 'imself again. An' then he'll like you an' you'll get along grand."

Jenna shrugged. She could care less whether Les eventually came around or not. She simply nodded and went back to her sandwich.

When Listener was finished with his food, he went back outside to finish his selling. At first, Jenna was going to stay inside and occupy herself with something or other, but soon grew tired of hearing Racetrack and Al bicker about nearly everything under the sun. She saw now why Al referred to him as her brother. They sure as hell fought like siblings.

So she trudged her way outside and planted herself on the stoop beside where Listener was selling. He didn't notice her at first and when he did, he startled violently.

"How long have you been sitting there?" he questioned, clearly trying to cover up the fact that she had just scared him out of his wits.

She smirked before answering. "Couple minutes. They're driving me up a wall."

"Prolly drivin' each othah up a wall too. What are they fighting about now?"

She picked at her skirt. "Her nightmares again. She's about ready to hit 'im, if you ask me. He keeps sayin' she needs to tell David about whatever's troublin' her and she keeps tellin' him he needs to mind his own damn business."

"Sounds about right," Listener sighed, he turned and announced his spin on the headlines, selling another paper before turning back to her. "She don't like to talk much about the things that bother 'er."

"Racetrack makes it sound like this has happened before," Jenna hedged, leaning on her hands.

"That's 'cause it has," Listener answered. He looked around and shrugged, mumbling something about it being too late for many more people to buy a paper. He came over and settled down beside her. "All the newsies have nightmares about their old lives an' things they're scared about. At least, it seems that way. I mean, I'm sure you even do." He looked to her for confirmation. She intentionally kept herself from reacting, though she was internally agreeing. He continued after a moment. "Well, Al's been through a lot, both before and after she was a newsie. Whenever things get bad or she gets scared about somethin', she gets those terrible nightmares that keep 'er from sleepin'."

"So?"

"So what?"

"So why's everybody makin' a big deal about it? I mean, if near everybody 'round here has those bad nightmares, why is everyone pestering Al about having them?" Jenna questioned. She could see why Al was getting so angry lately. If Jenna had to deal with everyone pressuring her to spill her guts, she'd be pissed too. "Why don't they just let 'er work it out herself?"

Listener looked at her for a long moment as he couldn't understand her question and was trying to get clarification. Finally, just when she thought he wasn't going to answer, he spoke up. "That's not a healthy way to deal with the things that are botherin' you. If you bottle it up, ya just end up makin' it worse and makin' yourself miserable." He paused, giving her a significant look which she ignored by watching the people who passed by on their way to this activity or that. "Besides that, she's not sleepin' anymore. You can't pretend you don't see the bags under her eyes too. A couple years ago-" His voice hitched and he coughed to clear it, but Jenna turned to look at him, surprised at the emotion she heard there. "Ya know Logan? From the Lodge? The one with the little girl?" She nodded. "Well, his wife got real sick while she was pregnant with Maggie an' she- she didn't make it."

Jenna looked at him, unsure as to what she was supposed to do. He must have been close with the woman, because he looked like he was doing his best not to get choked up in the retelling.

"Anyway, evah since Al got pregnant, everyone's been worried 'bout losin' her the way we did Maggie. If she were to die-" This time, he had to pause longer, collect himself. "Well, I don't know what would happen, how we could possibly recovah. Now Al's makin' herself sick an' that baby's due any week now. I don't think we would make it without her."

There was a long pause as Jenna took this in. It was odd how a little information could make you see everything in a new light. Listener looked off into the distance, like he was looking for something else to think about.

Jenna coughed awkwardly. "You have nightmares?"

"What?" He turned to look back at her.

"You said near all the newsies have nightmares about their past an' stuff. Do you?"

He nodded. "Yeah, sometimes. What about you?"

She hesitated, then decided there was nothing to be gained by lying. "Every night."


	14. Push

_**Author's Note: It's Monday again and I've got plenty of good news for y'all! :) First of all, I got the job! I'm still in training, but I already love it. (Plus I get mostly free video rentals! Success!) Also, A Matter of Trust made it to the voting in the NYNA Summer Reading contest. There are four other stories up for the award and I encourage you to check them out and/or vote for your favorite among them (even if that story isn't mine). Voting opened yesterday and runs until August 25th, so go put in your two cents immediately! Here's the URL: ******__ nyna#!participate _

**Chapter 14- Push**

_Tell me what you got to break down the walls  
__You just might need dynamite  
__Tell me what you got to break down the walls  
__Kick senseless my defenses  
__Tell me what you're gonna do  
__I need you to light the fuse  
__Tell me what you got to break down the walls  
__You just might need dynamite  
__~Dynamite: Demi Lovato~_

Al slammed the door to her bedroom, cursing Racetrack for being such an ass. She didn't understand why he couldn't just leave her alone. If she didn't want to talk about it, she wasn't going to. He ought to know that about her by now. Why he felt like joining David in pressing her to talk as of late was beyond her.

She eyed the bed she shared with her husband before deciding it was about time she tried to take a nap. After all, her nightmares couldn't haunt her every time she closed her eyes. They were bound to let up every once in a while. She lowered herself on the bed and struggled to find a comfortable way to sleep.

Surprisingly enough, she did manage to get a good bit of sleep, waking a few hours later when her husband tripped over his own shoe, effectively foiling his attempt at being stealthy.

She stirred and sat up as he cursed quietly at the shoe he had undoubtedly just taken off. He offered an apologetic look to her.

"Sorry, I tried to be quiet."

"It's alright," she yawned, swinging her legs out from under the covers and glanced out the window. "It's 'bout time I woke anyway. Guess dinner's gonna be late tonight."

"Racetrack's almost finished it," David answered. "He figured you weren't comin' outta your room anytime soon and we'd all starve if he didn't do something about it."

Al nodded. "How was work?"

"Long," he groaned. "Today was the court date for the Wasserman vs. Johnson case. Interesting, but long."

Al stood and gave him a good, long kiss that he followed up with by kissing her stomach and holding it on either side as he spoke to the baby inside. "You treatin' your momma right in there? I know it's getting cramped, but you better behave yourself. Your momma puts up with a lot havin' you in there and Uncle Race out here."

Al laughed as the baby kicked in response to her husband's voice. David's face lit up and he grinned up at her from where he was crouched. It was times like these that she couldn't believe she had been blessed with such a wonderful man. He was so much more than she could ever have hoped for.

"I love you too, Junior," David answered in response to the baby's movement.

Upon his standing, Al wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed her body closer to his as she kissed him again. The two deepened the kiss as she stood on tiptoe, her heart dancing pleasantly in her chest. When they finally pulled away from each other, they were both somewhat out of breath.

David laughed breathlessly, a twinkle in his eye. "If we're not careful, we'll miss dinner."

Al winked. "I wouldn't mind all that much."

"That, love, is exactly how this came about." He patted her stomach, still grinning mischievously.

Al pulled away with a flirtatious grin. "You're right, maybe we should save that for after dinner."

David reached out to pull her back, but she danced away from his arms and out the door of their bedroom. She hurried down the hallway into the living room, giggling the whole way as David tried to make excuses about how dinner wasn't actually that close to being ready and the others could wait a while.

Racetrack appeared in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen and the two ceased their antics like guilty children. He eyed them for a minute or two and grimaced, "Les, Listener, and Jenna are all ready for dinner. You two fix ya hair an' leave that stuff in ya room."

He disappeared around the doorway and David grabbed Al's arm, spinning her toward him before fixing her with another breathtaking kiss. When they pulled apart, both laughed conspiratorially before helping the other smooth their hair.

By the time they entered the room, the other four dinner attendees were all seated at the table and Racetrack fixed them with a look that said he was both amused and disgusted. "That took a while."

"David's hair took longer to tame than expected," Al said with the utmost dignity as she took her seat. She had to keep from looking at her husband, though, or else she was sure to dissolve into laughter. Instead, she thanked Racetrack for the food and addressed Les as the group dug in. "When did you get here?"

"Hour or two ago," he answered around a mouthful of food. She grimaced and looked away as he continued. "Sarah got tired o' me hangin' around all day and sent me here."

"Why didn't she come?" David asked.

Les rolled his eyes. "Didn't ya hear me say she was tired o' me? Said she'd try to come see you in a day or two, though."

Al nodded and Racetrack grinned, "I haven't seen Trigger in a while. I wouldn't mind talkin' to 'er again."

"Trigger?" Jenna questioned.

"Sarah's nickname," David responded. "Like Freckles for you."

"Does everyone have a nickname?"

"Not everyone, but most," Listener answered.

"I don't," Les pointed out.

"Yeah, but the rest of us do."

"Even you two?" she asked, pointing at Al and David.

"Yeah, they're Cap an' Walkin' Mouth," Racetrack answered before taking a sip of his water. "It ain't hard to guess who's who."

Al wondered if Jenna would pick it out as easily as her Italian friend expected, but the girl made no move to try. She simply nodded and went back to her food. Instead of pressing it, Al turned to her husband. "Did you pick up the stuff I asked for?"

He nodded.

"Stuff?" Race questioned.

"We're gonna dye your hair," she responded with a smirk.

He paled as everyone else sat up, eager to hear more.

"What?"

Al shrugged, trying to pull in her grin. "You're too recognizable. I know I told you to grow out your beard an' all, but you'll still look to much like yourself."

"You don't know that," he responded, stroking the stubble in question. "It's only been two days, I might look like a whole 'nother person if ya wait."

David shook his head. "Al's right, it's better safe than sorry. I bought a couple bottles of peroxide to fix your hair up with. And we'll have extra for your beard as it grows."

Racetrack threw his hands over his head, food forgotten, and it made him look very much like the child he was when Al first met him. "You ain't touchin' my hair."

Al gave him a stern look. "It ain't like it's gonna hoit," she told him, irritation creeping into her voice. "It won't last forevah. They say it only lasts a couple weeks. Everyone's gonna look for a dark-haired Italian. You'll be much safer this way."

He pressed his lips together, ever stubborn. "I don't like it."

"It ain't about you likin' it," David said firmly. "It's about keepin' you safe and the people around you."

That seemed to work. Racetrack's arms slipped from his head and fell to his side. "Fine," he responded, still looking pouty. "But if I gotta do it, so do you." He looked at Al.

"No."

"That ain't fair!" He exclaimed, appealing to David as he whined. "If I gotta do it, so does she! They're aftah her too."

Al threw him an exasperated look. "Only the Delancey bruddahs are after me, not the entire Five Points Gang. I don't need it."

"Still-"

"No, they'll recognize me whether my hair is brown or blonde, 'sides it could be bad for the baby." She was bullshitting with that last bit about the baby and Racetrack knew it, but it convinced David and that was all she needed.

"Al doesn't need to dye her hair," he said definitively. "It's fine the way it is. We'll put a bottle aside in case that changes, but for now, Race, you're the one who needs it. We'll do it after we've finished eatin'."

Al stuck out her tongue at Racetrack and he mumbled a threat he didn't intend to follow through with before returning to his meal, much more sullen than he had been a few minutes earlier. He even started to eat slower in order to delay his torture.

"I think it'll look fine," Jenna offered after swallowing a bite of food. "Don't worry about it."

Les snorted into his drink. "I doubt it. It'll look terrible."

"Would you shut up?" she shot back, irritated. "No one asked your opinion."

"No one asked for yours either, dimwit."

"Alright, alright," David interjected. "That's enough."

Les ignored him. "This is my family, not yours, I've a right to say what I want."

"Les!" Al could hardly believe her ears. "How dare you? That isn't true, Jenna." She turned back to her brother-in-law, a fierce look in her eyes. "Apologize. _Now_."

"Better do it, lad," Race mumbled into his food.

"Sorry," Les spat, clearly more upset at being corrected in front of everyone than about what he had said.

His statement, though, proved exactly what Al had been thinking this whole time. Les was definitely feeling like he had been replaced. She made a mental note to pull him aside and have a talk with him about the way he was acting lately.

"Well," David cut in, clearly trying to segue the conversation onto another avenue. "Work was interesting today. What'd the three of you do while I was gone?"

"Not much," Racetrack answered. "There's only so much you can do when trapped indoors."

"Al got a nap, so at least somethin' good came out of it. How long were you asleep?"

Al tried to make an informed guess as she chewed her food. She swallowed. "A few hours, I guess."

Racetrack raised an eyebrow, "Any nightmares?"

Al's fingers tightened around her fork in irritation and she opened her mouth to respond that no, she hadn't had any nightmares, thank you very much, when Jenna beat her to it. The girl stood up so abruptly that she knocked her chair backward and caused most of them to jump in surprise. She glared at Racetrack.

"Would all of you stop pushin' her? She doesn't wanna talk about it! Stop trying to make 'er!"

With that, she grabbed her chair and stormed out of the room as fast as she could manage with the piece of furniture in tow. A few seconds later, the sound of the door slamming caused Racetrack to wince.

"Drama queen, much?" Les huffed.

Listener gave him a dirty look, "Says the diva."

David intervened before the two could dissolve into another squabble. "That's enough. No more talking. Let's just finish our food."

When they had all finished their food, Al went to Jenna's door, carrying what remained of the girl's dinner, and knocked lightly. The others were cleaning up the remains of dinner and Al figured this would be a good time to approach the girl and see what it was that was really bothering her.

"What?" Jenna snapped from within.

"It's me."

The sound of footsteps were followed by a few seconds of jiggling with the door handle. The door cracked open and, once Jenna saw she was alone, opened fully. Al stepped in and watched as Jenna locked the door behind her and pushed the chair back under the doorknob.

"I brought your food," Al offered as Jenna sat down on the bed. The girl accepted it and scooted back so that she could lean against the wall, gesturing with her head to the rest the bed. Al sat on the edge of it and watched as Jenna picked at her food.

"Are you alright, Jenna?" she questioned tentatively.

"M'fine."

Al sighed. Of course Jenna wouldn't make this easy. "I know you were tryin'a defend me tonight, but I promise I'm okay. You don't have to get upset with them on my account. They're jackasses sometimes, but they mean well. They're just tryin'a take care of me."

Jenna looked up from her food and studied Al for a minute before responding. "You told 'em to stop an' they keep pushing. They keep pressin' you for answers."

"Yes," Al conceded, taking a deep breath, "They do. But not because they want to hurt me. It's 'cause they wanna help me." She sighed. "It ain't healthy for me to be holdin' all this in. I know that. It's just . . . I'm not good with emotions. Nevah have been. I know I'm not supposed to, but I do bottle 'em up because I don't wanna deal with 'em. But I can't evah heal if I don't work through them."

She could see that what she said struck a nerve with Jenna and she let it sink in for a few moments. She rested her hands on her belly and took another deep, cleansing breath.

"I'm not sayin' I should go tellin' my problems an' hoits to every Joe that I run into, but I've gotta learn to push through the discomfort of doin' that with my husband at the very least. I'll prolly never get as good at it as I should, but I don't wanna be hurt forevah."

Jenna opened her mouth and closed it again, looking almost angry with Al for giving in. But it was suddenly making sense to Al why she needed to stop resisting David, who was only trying to help. He was worried for her and scared. She could almost smack herself for making his concerns even worse by keeping them to herself this whole time.

The younger girl set her food aside and her face grew steely. "I won't tell you anything."

Al nearly gasped. "Oh, Jenna, I'm _only_ talkin' about myself. If you wanna open up about your past or what's happened to you, that's your own business." She grimaced as she realized that the girl was afraid that if everyone kept pressuring Al, they were going to start pressuring her next. "No one is going to push you on that. We do care about you very much, but we know that you don't fully trust us yet and that's okay. I can't get away with that, 'cause I'm married an' there are just certain things you've gotta be honest about with your husband. I haven't been doin' that and I'm gonna fix that. But don't you for a second think you have to do the same until you're good an' ready."

"I won't ever be ready," Jenna answered quietly, though her expression had lost some of its edge.

"I hope that's not true," Al answered. "Because life's gonna be that much harder for you if it is. People just don't heal that way. And as much as we may want to, it's impossible to get through this life on our own. We all need help."

Jenna looked away and Al released a barely audible sigh before standing. "I'll let you get to bed now."

Jenna nodded and unlocked the door, let Al out, and locked it once more behind her.

Al let out a deep, heavy sigh and leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes as tight as she could. She needed to talk to her husband and she desperately wanted to avoid doing so. However, she had already made her intentions known to Jenna and she didn't want to be a hypocrite. Besides, it was clear that the girl needed to see that problems could be handled this way and that healing would never come if she didn't tend to her wounds, rather than cover them up without ever cleaning or bandaging them. Wounds that we let fester only grow worse with time, not better.

Al steadied herself before walking into the kitchen. She waited until her husband made eye contact with her before she spoke.

"We need to talk."


	15. Talk

_**Author's Note: So I'm currently six hours from home, visiting my brother's college with him for orientation. Because my parents are still in France, I've had to go to all of the parent meetings, which is both awkward and boring (not to mention exhausting). I keep getting weird looks and even had one lady ask me what my son or daughter was majoring in. So basically, I'm giving off the impression that I got pregnant at age ten and just look really young for thirty. -_- Anyway, I managed to get myself some internet and had the time to post this, thankfully.  
Please don't forget to vote for me in the NYNA contest, if you haven't already. (Well, vote for whoever you think deserves it most, even if it's not me.)  
And, of course, many thanks to Ealasaid Una, natalieblack2, Guest (1), Guest (2), and BlendedMinds, who reviewed on the last chapter and made my week that much brighter. Please keep up the feedback. I appreciate it more than you know! (P.S. I'd love it if you signed the bottom of your review if you're submitting it anonymously. That way I can give you credit and I can feel like you're a real person. Haha.)**_

**Chapter 15- Talk**

_Locked behind the pain inside  
__Screaming for a door  
__Your tears won't let you hide  
__Your tears won't let you hide  
__You're running for a breakthrough  
__There's nowhere else to go  
__You're reaching for the sunshine  
__The sunshine  
__~Tears: After Edmund~_

Al and David said their goodbyes to the two newsboys and told Racetrack not to wait up for them before heading up to the roof. The couple lived on the fourth level of a six story building, so they had to climb a few sets of stairs to reach it, which took much longer than Al had expected it to. She hadn't bothered to try making the climb since she was about four months along, so she hadn't anticipated the effort it would take in reaching the top. David helped, keeping a hand on the small of her back and offering his assistance. Still, she was winded by the time they finally made it to the roof of the building.

Roofs had a sort of special significance to Al. She wasn't sure how that had started, but it was something of a refuge to her. She used to do all of her thinking on the roof of the Lodge when it was too late to take a walk. It was the only place where she could really be alone at the Lodge. The view of Manhattan from a place that wasn't entirely blocked by taller buildings was also a nice change of scenery.

Beyond that, there were quite a few significant things she could tie to the roof. Not all of them were necessarily good, but they were important memories nonetheless. When it came to David in particular, the roof was where quite a few milestones had taken place. It had been on David's roof that the two had first gotten to really know each other and David had first told her she was pretty. It was on the roof of the Lodge that Al had finally opened up about her past and it had been on a roof that she and David had discussed just how deeply they felt for each other and he had unofficially proposed right after Jack's breakup with Sarah. Now it was to be the scene of Al's coming to terms with her emotions-the ones that had been giving her nightmares and keeping her from sleeping.

David helped her sit against one of the boundary walls and moved to sit across from her. The full moon cast its glow and touched the side of his face and arms so she could see his expression. He looked concerned, but eager, clearly aware of what subject she was about to approach though she hadn't told him anything more than the fact that it would likely take a while.

She wrapped her arms around her stomach and let her feet stretch out in front of her. The bottoms of her socked feet rested against his shins where he sat cross-legged in front of her. The dirty pavement beneath them was still warm from the summer sun, but had cooled off enough that it didn't burn them through their clothes.

Al took a deep breath, trying to figure out where she should start. There really wasn't any good way to ease into this discussion. She was already doing her best to push escape plans out of her mind. No matter how unpleasant this conversation would be for her, she knew it was necessary. There would be no weaseling her way out of this one.

"Was Jenna alright?" David asked softly, as if trying to guide her to the easiest way to approach the subject. Knowing David, he was. He understood her in a way few others did. She knew he was fully aware of the battle going on within her at that moment.

"Yeah, she was just scared. She thought if all o' you were pressurin' me to talk, it was only a mattah of time 'fore we started pushin' her to do the same."

David frowned. "You told her she was wrong, right?"

"'Course. I told her that it was different with me," Al looked down into her lap, or what little of it she could see that wasn't eclipsed by her swollen belly. "It's different when you're married. I made a promise to be honest with ya a long time ago an' I gotta be true to that."

She looked up and watched as the frown on her husband's face slowly morphed into a gentle smile. It wasn't until then that she realized it would have been so much easier if she had been open with him from the beginning. She wouldn't have hurt him, argued nearly so much with Racetrack, or had this much trouble talking about things if she hadn't sidestepped the questions for so long. She knew that much from experience. There was a time when she would have immediately spilled about her dreams that night when she woke everyone screaming. She and David had been working on that even before they were engaged.

The difference was that these dreams had sprouted from a deep-rooted fear that had finally bubbled to the surface. Most of her dreams in the past couple of years had been a result of something traumatic happening, a different kind of fear.

"I'm scared," she finally admitted. Al's voice didn't sound like her own. It sounded small and breakable. Her gaze dropped to her lap again.

She didn't look up, but she heard David shuffling, so she pulled her legs in and sat with them crossed as well. The next thing she knew, his knees were pressed against her own and he was lifting her chin with his hand. When she was at eye level with him, she watched as he searched her eyes, his face a mask of concern.

"Of what?"

"Myself," she choked. She willed herself not to pull her face out of his grip, but she couldn't bear to maintain eye contact. She closed her eyes instead. "That's what my nightmares are about."

"I don't understand."

Al willed herself not to cry, to be strong. Still, she felt the tears as they balled up in her chest begging to be released. She did her best to suppress it. "Remember what I told you about my mothah?" She forced herself to open her eyes again. He was nodding, but his brow was scrunched down so far that they cast shadows over portions of his eyes. He was still looking at her intently. His hand dropped and they found both of hers. Their fingers intertwined and they somehow gave her the strength to continue. "I-She was worse than my father, 'cause ya never knew what would send her overboard, what would set her off. She was crazy." Al sucked in another greedy breath and looked down to where David's hands were cradling her own. "I-I'm scared that . . . that I'll become her."

"Oh, Ali-"

"No. No, lemme finish." She lifted her head, willing herself to speak, but she couldn't stand to see the look in David's eyes. She shut hers once again and squeezed his hands as tightly as she dared. "My nightmares. That's what they're about. They start off with my Ma beatin' me or Jack or both of us; then it changes. Then I'm in Ma's place, hitting an' screamin'. An' I'm hurtin' our baby. I can't see it, but I know I am." Al's voice broke and she bent over herself as far as she could manage as the sobs broke free of their confinement. Her entire body shook with the force of her crying. "I don't wanna become that," she choked through her tears. "I _can't_ be that. I'd rathah die."

Again there was shifting from David, but she could barely process it. She could feel the baby kicking in response to the force off her sobs and she hated that it could feel even a portion of her pain. David's arms reached around her from the left and pulled her into him. She turned her face into his shirt while he stroked her hair.

"Let it out, Ali," he cooed lovingly. "It's okay. Everything's gonna be okay."

She cried that way until she could collect herself enough to speak, which took quite a while. That was when she pulled back. She looked at him with a liberal amount of confusion clear on her face. "How can you say it'll be okay? You don't know that."

"I know you."

She bit her lip and wrapped her arms around her belly, looking down at the protrusion with blurred eyes.

"Alison. Alison Melissa Jacobs, look at me."

Al slowly lifted her eyes and blinked away the tears. David had tears streaking down his own freckled face. She could see the moonlight glinting in the tear trails.

He reached for her face and used his thumb to wipe away a few of hers. "I swear to you, you will not be the woman your mother was. Look at yourself, Ali. Do you think your mother ever really looked at herself the way you do? Do you think she tried, really tried, not to be the person she was?"

Al shook her head slowly, but was still unconvinced.

David continued, voice still gentle and soothing, "You may not realize this, but you're already a mother. Don't look at me like that. You know what I'm talkin' about. You've been a mother since before I first met ya. There's a reason those kids look up to you at the Lodge. You know even Runner, Listener, an' the other older boys refer to you as their Ma when you're not there to correct 'em. An' what do you think you've been doing for Jenna since she showed up here? You've been treatin' her just the way my Ma treats Sarah when she's hurting."

He sighed and gave her a firm look. "Bein' a mother isn't just about givin' birth. You should know that by now. Family isn't just sharin' the same blood; it's lovin' someone so much you'd give the world to take care of 'em. Bein' a mother is takin' care of the ones who can't take care of themselves, the ones who need someone to help them along. Al, you've been doin' that for years now and not once have you struck out at someone younger than you that was anything more than a smack they needed an' deserved. You _know_ that."

Al let her husband's words sink in. They sounded so foreign, yet in some ways she couldn't yet understand, they were familiar. Her tears stopped streaming and her breathing slowed. She used the back of her hand to wipe at her nose. "This is different," she tried to protest.

"Let's look at this a different way then," he answered. "Am I the type of person your father was?"

Al shook her head vehemently. "I'd nevah-"

"Marry someone like him, I know. Would I ever hurt our kids like he hurt you'n Jack?"

Again, she shook her head.

"Would I marry a woman like your mother?"

Al hesitated this time, but finally answered with a slow shake of her head.

He put his other hand on her face so that the warmth of his palms encompassed it. "You're right. I wouldn't; and I didn't. I married you, Alison. An' you're nothing like the woman who hurt you. You're loving, kind, and considerate. You're beautiful and strong; too stubborn for your own good. You're a mean fighter, 'cause you're never gonna let anyone hurt another person the way you were hurt. You're everything I ever wanted in a wife and I will love you 'til the day I die."

He leaned in and gave her a long, gentle kiss. Al melted into it. She wrapped herself up in those words of comfort David and in the touch of his lips. It felt so freeing, not to be overwhelmed by the fear any longer.

David was right, she knew it from the bottom of her heart. And in all of this, in all of the fear, she had forgotten that she wasn't alone. She had spent so much time hiding within herself that she had let the truth slip through her fingers. This wasn't a task she would have to bear on her own. This baby was a gift that both she and David would raise _together_. Even during those times when she didn't trust herself, she knew she would have David there to stand beside her, to hold her up; just as she had promised to hold him up whenever he was feeling weak.

They pulled apart and Al offered him a wet smile. "Thank you," she whispered as she pulled him into a hug.

It was a rather ineffectual hug, seeing as there was the equivalent of a watermelon squished between them, but it didn't matter. They were close and that barrier that had been separating them emotionally had finally dissipated. Al didn't think she could be more grateful, or more irritated with herself for putting this off so long; because even though it had been hard, this conversation had been worth it.

They sat that way for a long while, simply holding each other while Al came to terms with the fears that had been haunting her for the past few weeks. She didn't know how David managed to be so understanding, but she thanked her lucky stars that this was the man that had fathered her child and would stand beside her for the rest of her life. She doubted she could ever love him more than she did in that moment.

By the time they made their way back into their apartment, most of the lights were off and Racetrack was snoring away from his spot on the couch. Al giggled softly in reaction to it. She had missed the sound of his snoring. David chuckled in response and kissed the temple of her forehead before wrapping her hand in his own. He started to head back to their shared bedroom, but Al held back.

"You coming?" he whispered. "It's late. You should get some rest."

"I need a water," she answered. "I'll be there in a couple minutes."

He nodded and planted a quick kiss on her lips before disappearing into their room. Al turned around and poured herself the glass of water she desperately needed after all the tears she had shed moments before. Cradling the glass in her hands, she leaned back against the counter and tried to ignore the headache that pressed against the edges of her skull. That was another reason she always hated crying. They always gave her headaches afterward, very unpleasant headaches (not that she had ever had any pleasant ones). Her eyes felt puffy, like they wouldn't open all the way even if she willed them to and her face was hot. She considered splashing some water on it, but didn't feel like going over to the sink unnecessarily. She was exhausted, but she wasn't quite sleepy yet.

Al gulped down the contents of the glass and stared at the empty cup, wishing life wasn't so damn hard. Why was it that everyone she cared about had to be threatened, hurt, or damaged? She knew she wasn't the only one that had ended up in dire need of fixing. It was times like these that she wished she was. If she was having this much trouble, she wondered how bad off Racetrack, Jack, Genie, and Jenna really were. For that matter, every person she had ever come in contact with had suffered in one way or another. It was simply heartbreaking. You never really knew what made people the way they were.

But even with all of life's hardships, they had all managed to find each other. They had somehow managed to form relationships with the people who would help them out when times grew tough and carry them through the rough situations. Somehow Al had managed to surround herself with people who had been hurt, but still weren't afraid to carry the load of their friends, seeing them through even the deepest of hurts.

She was blessed.

With a sigh, she left her glass in the sink and headed back to her bedroom. Racetrack was still snoring when she passed and she stopped to shake her head at him, even if he wasn't aware of it. He had managed to slip his way out of getting his hair dyed tonight, but tomorrow would be another matter entirely. She almost couldn't wait to hear his moaning and groaning about the whole thing.

When she passed by Jenna's door, however. She saw that the light was still on. This gave her pause and she stared at the light coming out through the door's edges. She figured she might as well let Jenna know that she had followed through on her word and opened up to David. She wanted to lead by example. Looking at Jenna, she realized she could see what everyone else saw in her and it was honestly frightening. She needed to be a better role model to this girl if she was ever going to be able to help her work through her own past.

She knocked gently on the door, loud enough that the room's occupant would hear but soft enough that she wouldn't wake the slumbering bear a few feet away on the couch. When no one answered, she tried again, "Jenna? You awake?"

Again, there was no answer. Al thought that was a little strange. Maybe the girl was still upset about earlier or had fallen asleep with the light on. Knowing it wouldn't do her any good, she tried to door handle. To her surprise, it was unlocked. She slowly twisted the knob and peeked in. She was wary, almost feeling like she was stepping into a trap. Foreboding built up in the pit of her stomach.

The first thing she noticed was the nightgown Jenna had been wearing earlier was folded on the corner of the bed, which had been made as well. Al felt her heart skip a beat. There was a note on top of it.

Approaching it with trepidation, Al reached down and picked it up, her hands already shaking.

_Al,_

_Sory. I had to go. _

_Thanks for evrthing._

_Jenna_

"David!" Al screeched, clutching the note as her eyes wildly searched the room. There was no other trace of the girl who had been occupying the extra bedroom for the last couple of weeks. "David!"

The crib sat lonely, with its faded pink sheet laid up inside it. The ribbons Al had given her on her first day lay forlorn on the chair the girl had used for a secondary lock. She had taken the rest of her clothes with her, including those which Al had given her. Al hustled to the window, hoping beyond hope that she would see Jenna on the street beneath, maybe rethinking her decision. The street was empty, the yellow glow of the streetlight illuminating the empty space in Al's heart.

She was going to be sick.

"David!"

She turned around just as David came skidding into the room, his hair tussled from what little sleep he had managed, dressed in his pinstripe pajamas. Racetrack was right behind him, his eyes barely open. He nearly collided with her husband as he entered the room searching for the unseen threat.

"She's gone," Al choked out, closing the distance between herself and the two men. She thrust the note at them both, not caring who saw it first. "She's gone."

Al dropped down onto the bed, crushing the nightgown beneath her, and dropped her head in her hands.


	16. Point

_**Author's Note: Well, here's today's chapter! Now my brother and I are headed up to Chicago for LeakyCon and I'm so excited that I can hardly stand it. We're starting our drive up there tomorrow. Are any of y'all going to be there? Anyway, this convention is basically going to be taking over my life for the next week or so. Therefore, I may not be able to get out another chapter next week. We'll see how it all works out. Don't forget to cast your vote for the NYNA Awards if you haven't yet. It'll be over before you know it! Check out the link on my profile to do so. And I love to hear from you, so don't forget to review either! :)**_

**Chapter 16- Point**

Jenna took her time as she walked down the street, each step taking her further away from the place that had been the closest thing to home she'd had since her parents were alive. She didn't need to hurry. She had nowhere to be; and no one would realize she was gone until morning.

The night was dark and the shadows seemed to encroach on the light provided by the street lamps instead of the other way around. Her head told her she needed to find a place to bed down for the night, that it was dangerous for her to wander, but she didn't heed her own warning. She felt like walking. Moving while she thought made her feel like she was making some sort of progress. If she stopped now, she would only manage to drown in her swirling thoughts and emotions.

The old canvas bag she had found in the closet bumped against her back with each stride. She hoped it wasn't a sentimental or currently useful item to the Jacobs. She had found it in her frenzy to get out of the apartment and figured it was small and old enough to be of use.

Jenna tripped over her own feet and stumbled a little, but managed to recover her balance. Her feet felt heavy from exhaustion. She was admittedly quite tired, but again, she didn't want to stop now. She was afraid she would turn around and go back to the Jacbos. She couldn't allow herself that option.

She had thought about taking food with her, but didn't feel right about stealing it, even if she knew Al wouldn't really mind. She had stolen food when she ran away from her aunt and uncle's house. She hadn't cared then because they hadn't cared for her. They practically owed her that food. Al and David had always been kind though, and she had no reason to spite them.

Even now, she wished she could turn around and climb back into the bed she had grown so accustomed to. A part of her wanted to stay there forever, but the logical side knew it was time for her to go. She had left before the bottom dropped out and now she wouldn't have to deal with the sort of pain that was inevitable - the pain of someone breaking the trust you put in them. As much as she didn't want to admit it, Jenna had begun to trust them. No matter how much she had tried to convince herself that they weren't worthy of that trust, she hadn't been able to truly convince herself. They had grown on her in a way she couldn't have anticipated.

Even after Al's reassurances, Jenna knew that they would have started asking questions sooner or later. They had made it clear that they cared for her and she had come to accept that as a tentative truth. If they did care about her the way Al said, then they would certainly begin to press her for answers. She knew they would only be trying to help, but she also knew she couldn't tell them anything. She wouldn't be able to stand their faces when they found out what she really was. They would toss her out on the street. Their love, like all loves, was reasonable. How could they possibly love her after everything that had happened to her?

No, it was better to forego all of that and nip this at the bud. Sure, it hurt to leave, but it would hurt worse for them to want her to leave. Maybe that was selfish of her, but she didn't really care. She thought of it as a preemptive strike. She wasn't about to let herself get hurt again. Physical pain she could handle. Emotional pain: not so much.

Emotion balled up in her chest and lodged itself there anyway. Suddenly, she was far more exhausted than before and she didn't mind bedding down anymore. At least she would slip into unconsciousness. She wouldn't have to think for a blissful eight hours or more. And if she was lucky, she might even be tired enough for her brain to skip out on the nightmares.

She ended up falling asleep sitting atop a crate with her head on her knees in a gap between buildings that was more an inlet than anything else. It was about five feet deep and just wide enough for Jenna and her bag to get through. It wasn't a very defensible spot, but it was hidden, and hopefully that would mean it didn't need to be. If she was lucky, no one would even know she was there.

When she woke the next morning, it was to the sound of someone yelling. Jenna blinked a few times before squeezing her way out of the inlet. Her entire body was sore, unused to the sleeping conditions that had once been a regularity for her. As she stretched out her numbed limbs, she looked for the source of the yelling, immediately finding that the butcher across the street was getting in the face of a smaller man who appeared to be his apprentice. He was yelling something about an apron and Jenna immediately lost interest.

She didn't know what she was planning to do now that she had left the Jacobs home, but the one thing she did know was that she was hungry. And that was the first order of business for the day: secure some breakfast.

* * *

Runner kept his face firm and his expression formidable as he crossed the Bridge onto Brooklyn territory. He knew he was being watched, even if he couldn't see Jett's spies. Jett was expecting him and therefore, would have them being watched even before whoever he had chosen to escort the envoy from Manhattan to his lodging house appeared. Rather than wait, he signaled for his boys to continue. He knew his way without a guide.

The boys he had chosen to come along with him were doing their job in looking intimidating as well. Listener's ink black hair fell in front of his eyes as he kept a keen eye on their surroundings. Les, who was stockier and generally the angrier of the two, kept his eyes narrowed and arms crossed over his chest as they walked the semi-busy street. He had skipped school for this meeting, but it was a necessary sacrifice. Gin and Scotch, the twins, took up the rear, their caps pulled so low over their eyes that it was a wonder they could see anything at all.

Long gone were the days that a trip to this borough was made lightly. There was no visiting among friends and the treaty that made the two allies had been hanging by a thread for a long while. Back then, a meeting would have meant the leader and his second in command, maybe one or two others if necessary. Now, it meant the leader bringing enough of his boys that he had a chance of getting back to his borough minimally scathed if proceedings went awry, yet not so many that they appeared to be an advancing army.

It was then that Snark came slinking out an alleyway toward them. His ginger hair was snug underneath a black hat and his rat-like face sneered at them from under his freckles.

"I see you left the whore in 'Hattan," he mocked, eyeing the five of them. Listener had told them enough about what had happened yesterday morning for Runner to know just who he was referring to. He could almost feel Listener stiffening to his right. Les' lips pressed tightly together the way they did when he was peeved. The expression always reminded Runner of Sarah. "Shame. We could've made good use of 'er."

"You're not here to run ya mouth, Snark," Runner answered quickly before either of the boys at his side could make the move they were clearly dying to-the move that would end with the loudmouth's nose bleeding. "Let's get this ovah with."

Snark flashed an irritated scowl before waving for them to follow him. The boy wasn't there so much to guide them as to make sure they didn't poke their noses into Brooklyn's business or make trouble. Runner didn't see how there was any trouble he and his boys could make that the Brooklynites hadn't already done themselves, but that was another issue. Jett wanted to show off his total control of the territory and that was best done by keeping close watch on its visitors.

The procession moved silenty, earning dirty looks from newsboys and gentlemen alike. The former, because they knew the boys were from Manhattan, the latter due to so many dirty teenage boys moving in one pack instead of working.

When they reached the Brooklyn lodge, they were escorted up two sets of rickety staircases and onto the third level, where a lone door stood slightly crooked on its rusty hinges. Gin and Scotch were left outside as reinforcements and added protection, the two standing carefully away from Jett's choices of the same. The other three entered and found Jett seated at a wooden table with an old book steadying one leg that was shorter than the other three. His second and third in command, Brutal and Pepper respectively, were seated on either side of him.

Runner took his lead and moved toward the chairs provided for the Manhattan newsboys, settling into the middle seat as Listener sat on his left, Les on his right.

"Let's get this started, Jett. I don't have all day," Runner said when it was clear that Jett wasn't going to speak first. "What was so important that your boidie had to track me down yesterday?"

Jett laced his fingers together, his reddish brown hair falling over his pale eyes as he looked down at them. He was the type to weight his words carefully when he spoke. The King of Brooklyn was known for being particularly crafty and sly. He was a snake, right down to his very core.

He had a scar over his left eye that gave him an even more intimidating look. At least, it would have if the person who had given Jett the scar wasn't sitting in the room with them. Les shot a smirk Jett's way when the leader gave him a dark glare, as he always did when the two of them ended up in the same room.

"My boy says you two weren't in ya usual spots yesterday," Jett answered calmly. "Why was that?"

"That isn't any of your business," Runner shot back. "What happens in my borough is my business and mine alone."

Jett sat back in his chair and pushed his hair out of his eyes. "You see, normally I would agree with you. But things between our boroughs have been a little . . . shaky as of late. Wouldn't you agree?"

Runner nodded, keeping his face impassive. "Your point?"

"My _point_," he answered, the condescension on his face making Runner want to leap across the table and give him a matching scar for the other eye, "Is that it'd be easy to assume that you were plottin' something over there."

"Assuming doesn't make it truth," Les pointed out.

"We aren't plannin' anything. We have no need to," Runner answered evenly. "We don't want to expand our territory or make trouble. We just wanna sell our papes on our toif without gettin' any trouble from anyone else."

"So you say," Jett answered, speaking slowly. It was his way of controlling the situation. "But how can I know you're tellin' the truth?"

"Look at our actions," Runner responded with a raised eyebrow. "You know our boys don't make trouble for you an' we mind our own business. Brooklyn an' 'Hattan have been allies since I first started as a newsie. That's well ovah nine years."

Jett's jaw hardened. "You may 'ave some misguided loyalty to Kelly and Conlon, but I don't. I deal in the now."

"Look," Pepper spoke up for the first time, earning him a glare from Brutal which he ignored. "You know that we've had reports that your boys've been crossing onto our turf."

"Bullshit," Les answered gruffly. "Which boys?"

Pepper floundered for a moment and Runner almost felt sorry for him. He was a pretty decent guy when he wasn't catering to Jett's every whim. He glanced at his leader and looked back at Runner. "Well, I don't think we 'ad any names. . ."

Runner gave Jett a dark look. "If ya can't back it up, I can't do anythin' about it. You should know that better than anyone. If any of my boys were crossing onto your territory, I could punish 'em, but only if I know who's doin' the rule-breakin'. Otherwise, there's no reason for you to bring it up. Clearly these supposed boys o' mine aren't doin' any real damage anyway or yours woulda stopped 'em."

Jett's lips pressed themselves into a small, clean line beneath his nose as he glared at Manhattan's leader.

"We make sure only our most reliable boys, the ones who wouldn't dare make unnecessary trouble, are the ones on the Bridge," Listener added diplomatically. "They're trustworthy." He put emphasis on that last word, implying that Jett's sources weren't.

"So what is it that was so important that we all had to skip sellin' today? I've got othah matters that need tendin' to." Runner was growing impatient. He wanted Jett to get straight to the point so that he could get back to his own territory. Being over here for extended periods of time made him feel like Manhattan was sitting undefended and vulnerable. Not to mention, he didn't leaving the protection of the Jacobs and Genie in anyone else's hands, no matter how capable they may be.

Jett cracked his knuckles without lifting his arms from the table. As he and Runner stared each other down, the latter could practically see the wheels turning in his head. Brooklyn's king obviously felt like he had lost the high ground and was scrambling to get back on top.

"Just watch your step, Runner," Jett responded. "That's all I wanted to tell ya. You're toein' the line with this secretive business o' yours an' I don't like it."

Runner balled his hands into fists and his knuckles whitened in response, the scars there stood in stark contrast to the supple skin that surrounded them. He stood, placing his white knuckles face-down on the table. Brutal stood along with him, like the bodyguard he seemed to think he was, but Jett and Pepper stayed seated. "It's not your place to watch ovah me. Brooklyn doesn't control my turf, whatever you may think," he announced dangerously through clenched teeth. "You've wasted my time and money. I wouldn't suggest doing it again."

He waved for his own right hand men and stalked toward the door. He'd had enough of this mess. Jett could go jump in the river for all he cared. Good riddance.

**_Disclaimer: I happen to be the sole owner of Brutal. Actually, I'm the sole owner of most of the characters in this chapter... which is a rather good feeling. Haha. :)_**


	17. Search

_**Author's Note: I am so sorry for the lateness of this one. I couldn't make y'all wait another week, so I just posted it today instead. LeakyCon was amazing and exhausting. Next year it'll be in Portland AND London. I definitely encourage all Harry Potter fans to do whatever they can to attend! This chapter is late because my parents came home shortly afterward and we had to take my brother to college (highly emotional). But here we are and here's the next chapter. Enjoy!  
P.S. Voting for the Summer NYNA closes on Saturday! Vote soon or you may miss your chance! O.o  
And so many thanks to woundedhearts, Ealasaid Una, natalieblack2, kitcool, and Clair Lawson, who reviewed the last chapter. Your encouragement means the world to me! :)**_

**Chapter 17- Search**

Al woke the next morning with her eyes puffy and head pounding from the battering her heart had taken the night before. She moaned quietly as she pushed herself out of bed. She was surprised at how attached she had grown to the girl that had been staying in their spare bedroom and now that she was gone, Al felt like she had been blindsided at the amount of pain the fact brought her. People leaving had always been a reality she had to get used to. There was a time when she had intentionally been careful about who she let herself care for because she knew they would all have to leave eventually.

She supposed that she had let her guard down in the past few years and this was the price to be paid for that. If Jenna wanted to leave there was nothing Al could do about it now was there?

With a sigh, Al pulled on her clothes for the day and made her way to the kitchen. It was nearing midday and David had left for work hours ago. Racetrack was probably already plotting his lunch.

She found him on the couch instead, lying on his stomach with his face planted on the newspaper he had clearly been reading before he dozed off. A small puddle of drool was developing next to the spot where his lips were parted and soft snores were slipping out. Al chuckled softly and slipped into the kitchen for a small breakfast before slipping back into the room and prodding her friend with a finger.

Racetrack snorted and pushed himself up. His drool had managed to stick his face to the paper and when he rose, the newspaper came along with him. He had to peel it away and shot Al a playful glare as she fought to control her chuckles. He rubbed at his face and it came away with black smudges that were nothing compared to the illegible lettering that now played across his face.

He wrinkled his nose at his hand, but made no move to wash it off further. Instead, he left the paper where it was and settled back into the couch. His beard was coming along nicely, now shading his jaw and making his face look fuller. Al hadn't seen Race with a beard since a brief stint when he was eighteen and decided a beard would make him look less like a child. It only lasted two weeks because it was the middle of summer and too itchy for him to have any patience with it.

He stroked the bottom of it once with his middle finger and his thumb before dropping his hand into his lap and looking over at her.

"Anything good in the papah today?" Al asked before he could ask her how she was doing.

"Not particularly. Well, unless that bit about Pulitzer givin' the newsboys a raise wasn't a dream. In which case, I'd say he had a stroke an' we oughta throw a party." He squinted at the paper as if he wasn't really sure if it was true or not.

Al took a big bite from the apple she was holding and wiped away the juice on her chin with a swipe of her wrist.

"Well, once you finish that, I guess we'd bettah get this hair dyeing thing over with," he grumbled, keeping his voice low as if he were still half hoping she wouldn't hear him or maybe even change her mind on the whole thing.

Al nodded and managed to finish off her breakfast in the next couple of minutes. True to his word, Racetrack didn't put up too much of a fuss when she took the peroxide to his hair, other than the usual complaints. Race had a knack for being quite the whiner when he wasn't too happy about something, but she could tell even through his complaints that he was toning it down out of respect for her sadness. She wasn't sure whether she appreciated or resented that. She'd rather not be reminded of the fact that anything was amiss at all.

The finished product didn't look all that bad, though it was a little shocking to see the Italian she had known nearly all of her life now a striking blonde. It was nearly unnerving, but it did its job. He looked vastly different from the man he had been a little over an hour ago.

Racetrack rubbed at the hair atop his head as it slowly dried itself in the stale inside air. He leaned close to the mirror and inspected it, now stroking his beard with thoughtfulness. Finally, he pulled away. "I don't like it."

"Doesn't matter if ya like it," Al answered as she threw the empty bottles they'd used into the trash bin before putting the ones they hadn't used in the medicine cabinet above the toilet. "It's stuck like that now an' it'll stay that way 'til we're all safe again."

"Still ain't fair," he mumbled as he made his way back into the kitchen.

Racetrack moped around for about a half hour before he forgot about his hair and took to standing at the window and watching passersby on the street below while Al swept the kitchen floor and generally cleaned house until she was too tired to stand on her feet. Then she settled down onto the couch and knit while Racetrack regaled her with a story about how one of his friends had fallen overboard during a storm and he had jumped in to save him. Al strongly suspected that her friend was "improving the truth" but she didn't challenge him. It was nice to have a story and it was keeping Racetrack from going completely stir crazy.

It wasn't until he fell asleep on the couch that Al finally made her move. She had decided earlier, while helping Race dye his hair, that she would just have to go look for Jenna herself. If she could find the girl, perhaps she could convince her to come back, or at least Al could find a way to help her. The thought of such a vulnerable and hurt young girl being back on the streets clawed at Al's heart. Once again, she found herself wondering what that would have been like-wandering the streets by herself. If she hadn't had Jack or the others, she would have been completely lost. Who knows how badly she would have turned out? Who knows if Al would even be alive now?

Racetrack was snoring loudly with his head half hanging off the couch when Al slipped through the door. She had left a note that simply stated the fact that she was looking for Jenna before heading out. Salamander was the newsboy watching the house this morning, since Listener had been called away on newsie business that morning. He was a smart kid and only about three years younger than her, but he was unused to her and her ways of sneaking about and therefore wouldn't be expecting her to make an escape. He would hardly even know where to watch.

Al took the relative ease with which she got by him as a sign that this was meant to be. After all Listener would have caught her if it had been him.

The first place she searched was the marketplace. The area between the stalls was crowded and she had a hard time getting through it without getting jostled or hit in the belly, which was supremely irritating. She had no luck in trying to find Jenna, though she had numerous moments where a girl who vaguely resembled Jenna got Al's hopes up for the split second before she turned or started talking.

An hour later, Al had checked most of the other places the girl would know how to find and had still turned up empty-handed. She was so frustrated that she thought she would burst into tears once again. Where could she be? Al realized her journey had been fruitless and would continue to be so. If Jenna didn't want to be found in New York City, she had plenty of places to hide. Al could search for years and never find her.

The thought sobered Al. She needed to go home. What she was doing was dangerous and stupid. If Jenna wanted to come home, she would, and Al would welcome her back with open arms. Until then, Al could only wait and pray.

So Al grudgingly made her way back home, avoiding the crowded street that housed the marketplace she had pushed her way through not so long ago. Now she wished she had thought to bring money and at least make her outing somewhat productive. She had been gone for a good two, maybe three, hours now and there was little chance that she would still find Racetrack asleep when she reached the apartment. She had no doubt that he would be furious with her for going out alone. And then he would tell David.

She cringed at the thought.

Al was about halfway home when she spotted the Delancey brothers talking to one another at the end of a street she had turned onto. The road itself wasn't too crowded, but had just enough people for her to get away with ducking her head and sliding into an alleyway nearby before they could spot her. She went around the back of the building and up the next alleyway, which conveniently ended next to where the two men were leaning against the wall, smoking. She inched her way forward and hid in the shadows; her hiding place giving her a rather good vantage point for eavesdropping on their conversation.

"Ya wife's been houndin' for days about what we're up to. Can't keep 'er nose outta anything can she?" Morris was saying.

"I told 'er she don't need to know anything' about what we do," Oscar responded, disdain for the woman in question coloring his tone of voice. "All she does is nag an' complain lately. An' stick 'er nose in my business. I'll get 'er to stop buggin' you."

Al had a hard time believe that there was a Mrs. Delancey waiting for Oscar at home, but stranger things had happened. The woman must be quite stupid if she thought she was going to get a good deal out of marrying this kid.

"Good." Morris coughed and it sounded muffled, like he was coughing into his arm or shirt. Al used the sound to cover up the noise of her moving behind a trash can nearby. She didn't want to take the chance that they would come down this alleyway and find her standing there. It wasn't a very good hiding place, but it would work for now. She crouched down, which was entirely uncomfortable in her state of pregnancy, and continued to listen.

"Speakin' o' Alice, she wants you an' Uncle Weisel to come over tomorrow night for dinnah."

"I'll let 'im know. I'm up for it. Lord knows, I'm tired o' the food I make."

Morris coughed again and one of them shuffled their feet a bit. "When did the boss want us to be back again?"

Al perked up. Finally some useful information. Maybe they would even start discussing their plan for catching she and Racetrack. She eased closer.

"We got about anothah ten minutes 'fore he expects us," Oscar replied. "We'd bettah get back now. Aftah botching that whole thing with Racetrack and Cap, he's been pretty pissy with us lately."

"Ain't our fault that skank lied to us. What were we supposed to do?" Morris spat. "If I evah get my hands on either one o' them-"

"I know, I know. Let's get movin'."

Their footsteps melted into the general noise of the New York City streets and Al sat back against the wall feeling supremely disappointed. For the second time that day, she had failed get anything right. This time, she had practically had her opportunity handed to her on a silver platter, yet gleaned nothing more from it than they already knew. After a few moments of allowing herself to wallow in self-pity, Al stood and brushed the dust off her skirt, all the while battling disappointment. She had almost been able to have something to show for her escape today.

She stood there for a long moment, not wanting to continue the journey back home and also giving the Delancey brothers enough time to be well out of range before she made her reappearance on the street. Finally, she sighed and decided that there was nothing for it, she would have to go home and confess. She would leave this part of the story out of it, though. No reason to make Racetrack or David worry more than they already did.

She made one final adjustment to her clothes before making her way out of the alleyway. She had almost made it onto the street when someone grabbed her. One hand went immediately over her mouth and the other arm wrapped around her middle, just above her stomach.

Panic rose up in the pit of her stomach as she was dragged back into the alleyway and into the shadows.

* * *

Racetrack nearly fell off the couch when the loud banging sounded at the door. He blinked wearily and yawned. Looking out the window, it was clear that he had slept far longer than he had intended. He was going to have trouble going to sleep tonight if he wasn't careful. This whole staying indoors business was driving him insane. If this lasted much longer, he was going to have to ask Al to teach him to knit, if only so he would have something with which to pass the time.

The banging sounded again and Racetrack pressed his lips together in consternation. Was he supposed to open the door? What if it was one of the Five Points Gang members come to finish them off?

Racetrack peered out the window, but couldn't get a glimpse of the door from there. He growled underneath his breath and stood up off the couch.

"Al?" he whispered loudly. "Al, someone's at the door."

He poked his head into the kitchen and, upon not finding her there, moved on to the bathroom and two spare bedrooms. It was soon abundantly clear that she had skipped out on him. He reentered the living room and found the note lying on the floor next to the door.

_Race,_

_Had to go find Jenna. _

_Be back soon._

_-Al_

Whoever was at the door banged their fist against it once more and Racetrack nearly jumped a food in the air from its proximity.

"Come on, Al. You gotta be home. Let me in, sis!"

Racetrack was so surprised at the sound of the voice that he swung open the door without another thought. The figure behind it frowned as the two laid eyes on each other.

"Who're you?" he asked. "Where's my sistah?" He paused. "Race?"

Racetrack was stunned speechless. Jack Kelly was standing on the doorstep, as was the surprise he had written about.


	18. Welcome

_**Author's Note: Thank y'all for being so forgiving about the late chapter update. The last few week were so crazy, but it's finally calming down and I now have some time to write, especially since I have the house all to myself. Anyway, the NYNA Summer Reading Contest has now closed the voting. Now it's time to wait. I want to thank everyone who voted (either for myself, or for one of the other very worthy contestants). It's great to get that sort of feedback and I'm very thankful my story has made it this far. :)  
To natalieblack2, Clair Lawson, woundedhearts, Ealasaid Una, JacobsConlonBrooklynNewsie, Saphy18, Perfectly Dramatic, and iillegiblescrawl: here's another great big thank you for reviewing the last chapter. And guys? This story reached 100 reviews! So thank you immensely for that. :D It means so much to me. I'm feeling all sorts of grateful today. :)**_

**Chapter 18- Welcome**

Al dug her nails into the wrist of the hand over her mouth and threw back her other elbow in an attempt to catch the man holding her in the ribs. It landed true, but only caused her captor to wheeze a little without loosening his grip at all. She was about to repeat the attempt when his voice hissed in her ear.

"Stop it, Cap. I ain't gonna hoit ya."

This gave her pause. She stopped flailing and the arms released her. She whirled around and growled dangerously, "Who are you and whattaya want?"

"It's me, Kiver," the man answered with a roll of his eyes as he stepped to the side so she could see him better in the low light of the alleyway. "Oi, now I'm bleedin'." He scowled down at the hand Al had clawed at, wiping at it with his other hand.

"Well, next time don't go grabbin' goils in alleyways. Ya nearly sent me into labor." Al placed a hand on her swollen belly and allowed herself a moment to calm down before speaking again. "What're you doin' here anyway? I haven't seen in you in years." It had probably been three years since she last laid eyes on Kiver. The two of them had never really gotten along very well, though they were generally civil to one another after the strike. Kiver had been Spot's second-hand man back when they were all still newsies. He still looked mostly the same, broad chested with dark curly hair and green eyes, his smattering of freckles was a little more prominent against paler skin, suggesting he didn't spend nearly as much time outdoors as he once had. In fact, when she turned an eye on his clothes, that suggestion was fully confirmed. His clothes were nice, better than what she and David could afford. He looked quite the hoity-toity now; only he was skulking around in an alleyway.

"I heard you was pregnant," Kiver answered, appraising her in the same way she was appraising him. "Looks good on you."

"Oh? And who'd ya hear that from?" Al challenged, raising an eyebrow.

"A little boidie," he answered mysteriously. "I also hoid the Five Points Gang is gunnin' for Racetrack an' the Delanceys are lookin' for you now too. Got any idea what that's about?"

Al crossed her arms and let them settle over the top of her belly. "Yeah, I'm aware."

"Then what are ya doin' out here?" he hissed in irritation. "You should be layin' low, not spyin' on Kelly's boys like that. You're gonna get yourself killed. They aren't little boys anymore an' this ain't a little fist fight. It's more dangerous than that." His tone belied concern and for that she was grateful, but she also wasn't about to let Kiver tell her what to do.

"What I do is my concoin, not yours," she responded.

Kiver let out a low growl and grabbed her, his hand closing tightly around her upper arm. He pulled her close enough that his face was only inches away from hers. His grip was strong and likely to leave a bruise, but she made no sign of flinching and simply glared back at him.

"You got a baby on the way, Cap. This is no time to be selfish. You're puttin' it in just as much dangah as you're puttin' yourself in." He let go and turned around, disgust clearly marking his face.

Al stood where he left her, making no move to massage her now throbbing arm. She wouldn't give even the slightest hint of weakness in front of him, even if he did mean well this time. Kiver was right, she would give him that much. But he didn't know the circumstance with which she had come out of hiding. He didn't know that she had stumbled upon the Delanceys, that she hadn't been following them. And she wasn't going to explain that to him. He wasn't her caretaker, he had no right to demand answers from her and she wasn't about to go handing them out.

After a moment of watching him fume, she asked again what he was doing in that alleyway. "It's pretty clear you aren't just hangin' around, waitin' to sell some papes. You're lookin' pretty high class nowadays."

Kiver looked down at his clothes as if he had forgotten he now wore items of clothing that weren't patched and frayed or hand-me-down. He waved a hand. "What I do is my concoin, not yours," he responded, throwing her own words back at her. He ran a hand through his dark hair, looking more than a little agitated. "Look, all I'm sayin' is you need to watch yourself. You've always been smart, irritatin' but smart, an' I don't wanna find out you got a bullet through your head 'cause of a short lapse in judgement."

"Thanks," Al said, a little more kindly than she had spoken before. "But I know what I'm doin'." She paused, then added, "But I still want to know what _you're_ doing. You _were_ spyin' on the Delanceys, right?"

Kiver adjusted his tie, looking like he was deliberating on just how much he could tell her. After a moment's hesitation, he nodded.

"Why?" Al narrowed her eyes, studying him as if clues would jump out of nowhere.

"Like I said, that's none of your business," Kiver answered with a roll of his eyes. "I think we both know the Delanceys are no good an' it's a good idea to keep on top of what they, an' their boss, are up to."

"So you're spyin' on the Five Points Gang," Al responded, matter-of-fact.

Kiver grit his teeth and looked like he was doing his best to restrain himself from causing her bodily harm. "Keep your nose outta this. You're already in ovah your head, you don't wanna go any deepah." He started to walk away, then turned back, running his hands through his dark curls once again. "Look, just get back home. Those boys are really gunnin' to whack you and Racetrack. I'll do what I can. I've got connections an' I'll see if I can get this smoothed over."

Al opened her mouth to thank him, but he mistook it for further arguing and cut her off. "Shut your damn mouth an' go home. That's all I know 'bout this an' all I'm gonna tell ya. Now get on before you get you an' the runt killed." He glanced at her stomach and gave a nearly imperceptible shake of his head.

With that, he stalked off into the crowded street without another backward glance. Al couldn't help feeling that if he really was so concerned about her well-being he would at least walk her partway home, but she supposed she was happy with what she got. Kiver wasn't exactly the pleasant sort. She didn't really _want _him for company the whole way back to her apartment.

His words rang in her ear for the entire walk, though, haunting her like ghost footsteps in the night. She looked over her shoulder nearly every few seconds and nearly had a heart attack when a match girl ran into her as she turned onto another street. Every alleyway looked insidious and every person seemed to be watching her with unusual interest. No matter how many times she told herself she was being ridiculous, she still couldn't relax until she reached her apartment building.

Even then, she was still so tense that when a man came barreling out of her own apartment door just as she was passing the window she screamed and jumped backward, nearly toppling over. The man caught her and it took her a moment to recognize her own brother.

Jack's current emotional state seemed to be caught somewhere between upset and overjoyed, as if he wasn't sure whether to lecture her or hug her. It barely took more than a second for the excitement of seeing his sister again for the first time in four years to overwhelm his anger and he wrapped her in a bear hug, spinning her around as best he could in her pregnant state before setting her back down.

He grinned at her and she grinned back. She tried to blink away the embarrassing tears that had sprung to her eyes, inwardly cursing the fact that this pregnancy had made her so emotional. It wasn't like her to cry this often and she was getting tired of it. Plus, it was starting to give her a headache.

"Jack! You're here!" she fairly squealed, smiling up at him.

He looked good, a bit on the tired side, but good. His skin was darker from days spent entirely in the sun, no buildings under which he could hide in the shade. He was also more filled out and muscular from dealing with horses all hours of the day. It looked good on him. He looked healthy.

She stood up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek.

"It took a little longer than I meant for it to. To get up here, I mean. Guess I didn't plan things out too well. But I'm 'ere now." Jack grinned. "An' I see you're still pregnant. Won't be long now, will it?"

"Should be comin' along in a week or two, I guess," Al answered. "C'mon, let's get inside."

Feeling light on her toes, Al grabbed her brother's hand and pulled him indoors. Inside, she made him sit down and rushed into the kitchen to get him a glass of water, calling out questions from the kitchen about his journey and the trip up there. It wasn't until she came back in the room that Al noticed Racetrack, sitting in her chair glaring at her as if he was giving it his all to keep from knocking some sense into her.

The blonde of his hair proved to be an odd contrast to the purple and yellow bruising on his face. It seemed to frame it, put it on display.

She was only confused for a moment before she realized why he was so angry. She paused mid-sentence.

"Race-" she started apologetically.

"I don't want to hear it."

Al furrowed her brow. "Race, it's not like I left just to freak you out. I had good reason."

"No, you were being stubborn an' stupid," he shot back. "How'd you think you were gonna find 'er on your own? Ya think she was just gonna be sittin' at the end o' the street waiting for you to come an' get 'er? She's gone, Al."

Al clenched her teeth and sucked in a deep breath through her nose, Racetrack's words cutting deeper than she thought they would.

"That was a real stupid move."

She wouldn't have said anything if he hadn't added that last bit, but that was what sent her over the edge. "Ya wanna know what was a real stupid move, Race?" she bit back. "A real stupid move was gamblin' with that asshole, Paul Kelly, an' gamblin' our lives with it. _That_ was a stupid move. If it wasn't for you an' your damn gambling, I wouldn't have to worry about the Delanceys tryin'a kill me _or_ my baby!"

Racetrack, who had gotten to his feet during her little tirade, puffed up as if we were going to say something really nasty in response, then stopped. A look Al couldn't quite place flickered over his features before he stalked out the front door, slamming it behind him. He didn't go far. She could still see him from the window, now smoking a cigar and looking deflated.

Al felt her stomach turn and she instantly regretted her words. Half of her wanted to run out there and apologize, while the other was too proud to even look at the door. She sank into a chair, massaging her temples with the tips of her fingers. "I can't believe I said that," she mumbled. "So _stupid_." What could she say after that anyway? _I'm sorry_ wouldn't exactly cut it.

A cough from the couch took her off guard and she looked up at her brother. She had forgotten that he was there. She cringed. "Oh Jack, I'm sorry," she grimaced. "I'm sure that was a nice 'Welcome Home!' for you."

Jack merely smiled and laced his fingers behind his head. "It's good to be back," Jack answered. "Nothin' reminds me o' home more than seein' you fight with someone. I'm just glad it wasn't me." Al rolled her eyes and he turned a little more somber. "But in all seriousness, you oughta say you're sorry to 'is face. That wasn't fair."

Al knew he was right, but she wasn't ready to talk to him just yet. She turned her head away and toyed with the ends of her hair, most of which had managed to fall out of her bun during the day's events. She wondered just how disheveled she looked.

"So, where's that surprise you were talkin' about in your letter?" Al questioned, her curiosity getting the better of her even now. She had hardly been able to stop thinking about it since she had received his letter.

Jack's grin grew bigger and his eyes all but twinkled. "_It's_ in the spare room, sleepin'. Though, maybe not anymore now that Racetrack's decided to take 'is angah out on the door."

Al bit her lower lip. Whatever, or more likely,_ whoever_, this surprise was, it obviously made Jack very happy. She could see it in his entire countenance. He looked like he was about to explode if he didn't reveal it immediately. Al wasn't sure she wanted to know. What if she didn't like them? What if this wife of his was terrible and she had to put up with her anyway? What if Sarah saw her?

Her stomach did another turn and it definitely wasn't the baby moving.

Jack leapt to his feet, barely constraining himself. Al made up her mind to like this person, no matter how terrible or evil she may be. She obviously made Jack happy, so she had to be alright at the very least. Besides, the last girl he had picked was Sarah and she was great. He didn't have any track record of picking awful girls. That was Mush and he had turned out with a lovely wife, from what Al had gathered of her.

"Let's go look," he grinned.

Al took a deep breath as he grabbed her hand and all but dragged her toward the extra bedroom.

_**Disclaimer: Kiver is an original character of yours truly and this is not his first appearance in this series. We first met him in "We Run the Papes" in the chapter entitle "Charm and Diplomacy." :**_


	19. Surprise

_**Author's Note: Sorry about last week y'all. Things just got a bit hectic and I felt like I was scrambling to get a foothold. Thankfully, I managed to get this chapter written up in the meantime. I'll try to update again next Monday, but I'm visiting my brother at college over the weekend, which means things may be just as hectic as last week. We'll see how it goes. Hopefully I'll at least get some writing done on the plane. :) And for those of you who are wondering, the results of the Summer Reading NYNAs haven't been released yet. I'll let y'all know when I find anything out.  
Many thanks to my lovely reviewers: natalieblack2, Clair Lawson, Ealasaid Una, illegiblescrawl, JacobsConlonBrooklynNewsie, woundedhearts, and Bookinerds, for being so patient with me and enjoying this story that I've so enjoyed writing. Y'all are amazing!**_

**Chapter 19- Surprise**

_And it was not your fault but mine  
And it was your heart on the line  
I really fucked it up this time  
Didn't I, my dear?  
Didn't I, my dear?  
~Little Lion Man: Mumford and Sons~_

Jenna growled under her breath in frustration. She simply wasn't made to live on the streets. Maybe she should have paid more attention to the newsboys, tried them for information on how they had made it on the streets before becoming newsboys, how they made it now with their limited income. She wasn't sure she would last another few hours, much less another few days.

She had already tried to get herself a job at two restaurants, a shop, and a factory. None bit. Either they didn't have enough space or money or, in the case of the factory, they were just plain mean. She had a fresh bruise to prove it.

Jenna's stomach growled loudly, an echo of the frustrated noise she had made only moments before. She needed to get something to eat. She was beginning to regret her decision not to pack food or even look for money she could take with her. Surely the Jacobs wouldn't miss a dollar or two as much as she missed having a full stomach.

Chewing on her lower lip, Jenna decided it was about time she attempted to get herself some free food. There was bound to be a crowded street of restaurants somewhere nearby (this was New York City after all) and maybe she could filch some scraps from someone's meal after they had left and before the busboy cleared it away. At least that way she wouldn't have to steal. She wasn't quite that desperate just yet, though she had been before Al had taken her in.

She didn't like to think of the time before Al had taken her in. In fact, she would have preferred it if all of the time between her parents' death and her being rescued by Les and Runner was simply missing from her memory. That would be the surest of blessings.

But no matter how many times Jenna wished for her memory to wipe out the trauma she had suffered through, she always opened her eyes with the same terrible memories and the same haunting nightmares lingering as if they were wanted. If only she could forget . . .

_Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You survived. That's what matters. There are plenty who've been through worse._

She found the crowded street she had been looking for and immediately caught sight of a restaurant that had a good deal of outdoor seating. She stood back until she saw a couple getting up from a table she could reach and started forward, only to be foiled by the fact that the busboy was on it like a vulture. She sighed. It must be a busy day for him if he was that quick at clearing and resetting the table. Jenna inched forward, realizing she needed to be ready if she wanted to beat him to the next one.

Normally, her stomach would be twisting up out of nervousness, but it was too busy growling for food.

A party of four stood up and Jenna made her steps quick as she hurried toward them, though kept slow enough that she wouldn't draw attention to herself. They had hardly stepped away from the table when Jenna reached across and grabbed half a sandwich that was left on one of the plates.

"Hey! Get away from that, ya rat!" the busboy commanded. He barreled toward her, though impeded by the deep tray he used to carry away the dirty plates and extra bits of food. Jenna didn't wait to see what he would do if he caught her. She took off and didn't stop running until she was far away from that street; far enough that she wasn't sure she knew the way back.

Allowing herself only a few seconds to catch her breath, she tore into her sandwich and tried desperately not to think of the fact that only yesterday she had been able to fill her empty stomach without having to steal it. She finished it within the next two minutes and though it didn't put an end to her hunger, it did take the edge off.

"You've gotten soft," she told herself aloud. "You're gonna have to toughen up all over again if ya aren't careful."

* * *

Runner, Les, and Listener sat together on the roof of the Lodge. They had walked back to Manhattan in almost complete silence after telling Scotch and Gin exactly what had gone down during the meeting. Runner wanted to check up on Genie and Al, but knew the three of them needed to discuss what had just happened.

They settled in the shady spot produced by the short stairwell for the door that lead up there. Les lit his own cigarette before holding the match out for Listener, who accepted it with a nod of thanks. Runner waited until Listener's cigarette caught the flame before starting off.

"I may be stating the obvious here, but I don't think our treaty with Brooklyn's gonna stand much longah," he stated as a small, steady stream of smoke issued from between Listener's lips. "So we've gotta be prepared."

"Prepared how?" Les questioned. "We can't do much of anything now without Jett accusin' us of plotting something."

"Well, from now on we _are_ gonna be plotting something, though it's not to expand our territory. I mean, we can't do anything rash or big. We gotta keep our heads in this. Jett's smart, but we're smartah. We can win this."

"So it's war," Listener stated.

Runner nodded. "Or the preparation for one. I don't think Jett'll sit still much longer an' we've gotta be ready for that."

There was a heavy silence as the boys took in the meaning of his words. Brooklyn's boys weren't nearly as controlled or tough as they had been under Spot's command, but they were greater in number and they played dirty. A war with them would mean casualties and the possibility of those casualties being many.

Les tapped the ashes off the end of his cigarette. "Look, Runner, I know you aren't gonna want to hear this, but It's gotta be said. If you're gonna do this-if you're gonna take Brooklyn on-you've gotta be prepared to run it."

"No," Runner answered firmly and immediately. "I'm not grabbin' for territory here. I won't allow it."

"Don't be stupid, Runner-"

"I said no!"

"Runner, Les is right," Listener butt in, giving their leader a somber look. "We know you just wanna take care o' Manhattan, but that ain't how things woik. If you challenge Brooklyn, you gotta be prepared to take down Jett, and once you've beaten him, Brooklyn won't respect 'im anymore. If you don't assume control, or find someone else to, it'll end up with more bloodshed in Brooklyn while they scramble for a leadah and more trouble for us as soon as they find even the slightest bit of order. They'll hate us more than they evah have before and that'll just be the beginning of our troubles."

Runner clenched his teeth. This wasn't what he wanted. Even as Les nodded sagely, Runner wanted to buck against them. All he wanted to do was keep his home safe, he didn't want to move against someone else's home if he could help it, much less take over it. He shook his head angrily. "I can't do that."

"Then find someone else who will," Les responded. "I'm sure there are plenty of kids willing to take over where Jett left off an' at least half of them'll do a better job than Jett has."

"Don't underestimate him, Les," Lister reminded him. "He may be a lousy bastard, but he's a smart bastard. He knows what he's doing." Listener turned to Runner now, "And if we're gonna find a replacement, we need to make sure he's smart as Jett or smarter, otherwise he'll be quickly defeated or used as a puppet. Neither of those would work out too well for us."

Runner groaned and ran his hands over his face. "This is gonna be harder than I thought."

"Don't forget about Brutal. We can't leave 'im of Brooklyn or things'll only get worse. He isn't exactly the forgive an' forget type," Les added.

Another groan from Runner. "Even better."

"I'll take 'im down for ya," Les commented before taking a deep drag from his cigarette. "I'd like to get a few good hits on the bastard. He's always gotten on my nerves."

Listener rolled his eyes. "He'd squish you like a grape."

"Wouldn't!" Les cried indignantly, a great plume of smoke rolling out from between his lips all at once. He choked a little from breathing it back in too quick. "I could take 'im."

"He's twice your size."

"An' I'm twice the fighter."

"Don't overestimate yourself. You're good, but not great. You aren't our best fightah by at least five boys." Listener smirked as Les growled, but didn't respond, clearly defeated. "Besides, I doubt it'll come to too much one-on-one fightin'. I bettin' on an all-out brawl or two." He said it soberly and Runner nodded in agreement, though his stomach dropped at the pronouncement. A brawl would be messy and that meant there would be a great deal of bloodshed, which he would love to avoid at all costs. His job was to protect his newsies and his territory, yet this was the only way he would likely be able to do that.

One look at the other two told him they felt the same. Les might prefer group fights to those where it was just him against a single opponent, but Runner knew he didn't like putting the rest of the boys, particularly the younger ones, in danger any more than Runner or Listener.

"Well then we'd bettah start preparin' so we aren't caught with our pants down," Runner sighed. It was time to get down to business.

* * *

Al held her breath and closed her eyes as her brother slowly pushed open the door to the extra bedroom. When she opened her eyes, she puffed out the air all in one gust. Two children, a boy and a girl, lay side by side in the bed. The boy was curled up in a ball and looked two or three years younger than the girl, whose age she would guess to be around nine or ten. He had ginger hair and hers was a dark brunette. Both were still fast asleep.

Al gaped at the prone forms on the bed as her brother put a finger over his lips and pushed her gently out of the room. He took great care in shutting the door as silently as possible and turned to give her a broad grin.

"Aren't they a sight for sore eyes? They had a rough time sleepin' on the train, so they'll prolly be out for another few hours."

"Who-who are they?" Al asked, finally regaining her voice. She felt like her eyes were about to pop out of her head. Those two were definitely not what she was expecting when Jack opened the door. She hardly had enough composure to be relieved that Sarah wasn't about to have that shoved into her face, at the very least.

"Them? They're mine," he stated proudly. She gave him a look and he continued with a roll of his eyes. "Well, not mine like that. I mean, they was born to someone else, but that doesn't matter. Point is: they came in on one o' them orphan trains a few months ago that gives orphan kids to homes that'll hopefully treat 'em well. Anyway, no one wanted both of 'em. One family tried to take just the girl an' she right out bit the man 'cause she wanted to stay with 'er bruddah. So's I stepped in an' took 'em. Couldn't let them get abandoned or somethin'."

Al felt a smile spread across her lips. That sounded quite a bit like her brother. He was always on the lookout for a way to help those he could, particularly kids with nowhere else to go. Then again, she did the same thing.

"This 'appened a few months ago?" Al questioned as they went back into the living room. "Why didn't ya tell me?"

"I wanted to," he shrugged guiltily. "I jus' didn't know how. I wanted it to be special. Then when I decided I oughta come up here to see ya an' I knew I could afford it, I figured I could break it to ya in person instead."

Al pressed her lips together and lowered herself into her chair. "Next time just tell me. You had me all worried 'bout what this surprise would be an' I woulda been just as happy for you if you'd let me know in a letter."

"Why would you be worried about a surprise?" Jack wondered.

"I thought you'd brought home a wife."

"Would that be so bad?"

"What are their names?" Al deflected quickly.

Jack didn't seem to notice. "Collin's the little guy. He's seven. An' Lily's nine. Their parents got sick a few years ago an' died about the same time. They've been pushed around from home to home an' finally the orphanage for a while now. Lily's pretty good around strangers, 'less ya try to separate her'n Collin." He grinned as if reliving the memory of her biting that man all over again. "He don't talk much yet. Not around strangers anyway. He talks to me an' Lily some, but mostly just lets Lily do the talkin' for him."

"I can tell they make you real happy," Al told him honestly. "An' I'm sure you're takin' good care of 'em."

Jack fairly beamed. He followed that up with a serious look. "All right, I've distracted you long enough. Race is still stewin' out there and for good reason. What you said wasn't fair an' you needa go talk to 'im."

Al groaned and felt trepidation well up within her. She knew Jack was right, but she didn't want to actually have to go out there and deal with what she had done. She hated apologies. Things would be much better if they could just sweep this under the rug and ignore it until it went away.

"C'mon, get your overgrown belly out there," Jack commanded with a laugh. "Don't worry about me. I'll keep myself occupied in the meantime."

Al obediently shuffled to the front door and exited, only to be immediately shamed the moment she laid eyes on her longtime friend. He wasn't even looking at her. In fact, she wasn't even sure he knew she had come out there. He sat with his knees pulled up halfway to his chest, his head hanging limply from his neck, and his arms dangling limply from atop his knees. His cigar burned unattended.

He looked like all of the fire had been knocked out of him, leaving him nothing but cinders and ash.

In order to buy herself more time, Al slipped a cigarette along with a match out of her own pocket and lit it up. She took a few puffs and let the bitter taste of tobacco wash over her tongue. It was something of an acquired taste, though she had acquired it pretty quickly, but the real joy of smoking was in its calming effect. She supposed that was why David managed to only smoke when he was upset. It was more the repetition and the deep breathing that served to relax the smoker, but it worked well. Already it was doing its job in soothing Al's irritated nerves.

"Race?" she hedged, deliberately looking at her cigarette instead of her friend. "About what I said in there. I was just angry. I didn't mean any of it. Honest." She glanced toward him and saw that he hadn't even looked up. "Race? Racetrack Higgins, you listen to me."

Frowning, she punched him in the arm and he flinched before giving her a firm glare.

"Race, I'm serious." She paused and gave him a helpless look. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said. I was just . . . tryin'a hoit ya 'cause what you said hoit me." She bit her lower lip and released it. "Look, I was wrong. You know I love ya. An' I owe you my life a thousand times ovah, just like you owe me yours. This ain't your fault an' I shouldn't 'ave said it was."

Race sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking for all the world like he didn't know what emotion he was supposed to be feeling, much less how he was supposed to respond.

Al put a hand on his arm. "Look, this whole thing is no one's fault 'kept the Delanceys' and Paul Kelly's. Don't worry about it. I'm sure it'll all blow ovah soon enough." He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off in hopes of cheering him up. "I didn't get to tell you earlier, but I saw Kiver today."

At this Race's head twisted toward her. "What?"

"Yeah, weird stuff," Al answered. "Point is, he's sayin' that he's got connections with some people who can help us out here. I don't know what that means, but it's a start. Even if 'e doesn't follow through, Jack's home an' no one's been hoit yet. 'Cept you." She reached out and touched the bruising on his face. It was weird, how much more it stood out now that his hair was blonde. The contrast between the blue and purple sitting next to his new light blonde locks. She wished his face would hurry up and heal already. She hated seeing this constant reminder that someone had hurt him.

"I don't want you to get hurt," Racetrack said in a low voice, looking away. "You'n Jack an' Davy. You three are the closest thing to family I've ever had. If I lost that-"

"You won't," Al answered firmly. "We're gonna make it through this one, just like always."

Finally, something that looked an awful lot like a smile made its way to Racetrack's lips. Al leaned over and gave him a kiss on the forehead. "I promise, it's all gonna be okay."

Leaning back against the wall, she gave Racetrack a sideways glance. "You see those kids in there?" She jerked her head toward the door.

Racetrack laughed, finally putting Al's heart at ease. She could kick herself for the damage she had probably just done to her friend's spirit with a few spiteful words. She truly hoped he wouldn't take it to heart. "Yeah," he answered amiably. "Seem like real nice kids. A lil' on the quiet side, but then they're not from here. They wouldn't know they gotta be loud an obnoxious to make it on the streets."

Al smirked. "They ain't been on the streets. They've been in orphanages an' peoples' homes, according to Jack. 'Sides, I don't think there are all that many streets in Santa Fe."

"Ya got a point there, doll," he chuckled.

Al sighed and took a puff at her cigarette as Racetrack chewed on the end of his cigar. "I thought he was bringin' a wife, ya know."

Racetrack gave her a knowing look. "Well, let's just be glad he didn't." He paused. "Sarah know he's in town?"

"She knows he's due to show up any day now. She'll know by tonight anyhow. Even if Les or Runner don't come by today, Salamander'll have the news that Jack's back common knowledge by sunset."

Racetrack looked grim and Al was certain the emotion was reflected on her own face.

"How do you think she'll take it?" he questioned.

"I honestly can't tell ya," Al answered. "I'd like to say she's ovah him, but we both know that's not true. An' we haven't been around Jack long enough to know how he feels." She sighed. "I just want them both to be happy."

"Me too," Racetrack agreed, patting her free hand that was resting on her knee. "Me too."

**_Kudos to woundedhearts, who was the closest to guessing what Jack's surprise was. :) Virtual cookies to you! Haha._**

**_Disclaimer: I am the rightful owner and creator of both Lily and Collin. :)  
_**


	20. Home

_**Author's Note: I know this one's a tad short, but things have been rather crazy around here. The next few will be back at normal length (about a thousand words longer than this one). Thank y'all for being so incredibly patient with me. I know I would be really irritated if I were you. I don't see any reason for me to skip updates for a the next few weeks, so no worries there. I'll do my best to get them all out on time. Like I said, there's a lot of craziness and stress floating around over here. Y'all's prayers are much appreciated. :)**_

_**Much gratitude to autumnamberleaves, , JacobsConlonBrooklynNewsie, Clair Lawson, Ealasaid Una, natalieblack2, woundedhearts, and The Booknerds for your fabulous reviews. I can't explain how much each one means to me.**_

**Chapter 20- Home**

Exhausted and irritated after the long discussion between himself and his two best men, Runner headed over to Al's house in eager anticipation of a nice, filling meal. It occurred to him that he ought to do something nice for the Jacobs soon in return for all the times they had gone out of their way to feed him and take care of him, particularly Al. Of course, he was currently having his boys guard her home, but he was also doing that for Sarah and Genie's homes. Besides, that was something he felt was necessary. It wasn't a gift in the same manner that he was thinking.

With this idea in mind, he stopped off at Genie's shop and paid for a bundle of flowers that he knew Al would be happy with. He knew she couldn't get out anymore and would be missing her usual dose of flowers. Genie wasn't in at the moment, seeing as it was getting dark and she had recently adjusted her hours to make certain she was safely indoors by dusk, so he simply picked the lock and left money on the counter. He turned back before leaving and left a note beside the coins as an afterthought. He didn't want her coming in the next morning and worrying that someone unsavory had been snooping around her shop.

He considered bringing the couple something else to go along with the flowers, but nothing sprang to mind and he was going to miss dinner if he didn't hurry that way. He wished he'd had the foresight to send a birdie that afternoon so that Al would at least know to make room for him. Then again, she usually made enough to have plenty of leftovers in case one of the newsboys came in unexpectedly.

Runner reached the apartment building within half an hour and took the steps two at a time to reach the correct floor. He glanced at the flowers he had purchased and wondered if he ought to have bought extra for Jenna.

_Too late now_. He shrugged to himself and rapped his fist on the door.

When the door opened, it took Runner a second to place the face of the man in front of him.

"Race?"

"Why is everybody havin' trouble recognizing me? It ain't that different," Racetrack complained, running a hand self-consciously through his now dark golden hair. He opened the door further.

Runner smirked at the former newsboy and tilted his head to the side. "Doesn't look all that bad. If you squint your eyes up real tight, you can almost fool yourself into mistakin' you for someone handsome."

He dodged a swing from the now chuckling blonde and stepped into the room. "Glad you're home, Race," Runner told him over his shoulder.

The first people he noticed upon entering the room were a little ginger boy and brunette girl curled up together at the foot of the couch playing with a top on the wooden floor and counting how long it spun uninterrupted. It didn't last very long at all, seeing as the ground was thoroughly pockmarked and the top kept catching in holes or deep cuts in the wood.

Runner passed them up and slipped into the kitchen, intending to put Al's flowers in a vase so they wouldn't dry out, but came up short when he saw another man sitting in the kitchen. His back was turned to Runner and he was deep in conversation with Al, who was sitting in the chair across from him with her apron still on, apparently waiting for one thing or another on the stove or in the oven. Runner was certain by the smells in the kitchen and living room that dinner had not yet been served.

He narrowed his eyes at the back of the person's head and racked his brain for the answer to the obvious question: who was this man? It wasn't until Al spotted him frozen in the doorway that he got the answer. She beamed at Runner and the man glanced over his shoulder to see what she was looking at.

"Jack's home," Al announced with barely contained excitement.

Jack's now darkly tanned face cracked a wide smile that still looked intensely similar to that of his sister's. "Runner, it's good to see ya. Boy, you've grown."

"It's been four years," Runner answered numbly, still in shock at seeing Jack's familiar face.

He laughed. "'Course it has," he answered, pushing himself onto his feet. He closed the distance between them and wrapped Runner in a warm embrace. "How's it rollin', kiddo?"

Runner hugged back, feeling the shock quickly being replaced by joy. "It's rollin'," he responded as the hug ended and he stepped away, the flowers in his hand slightly crushed from being pressed against Jack's back. "How's Santa Fe?"

"It's great. Lotsa room for the horses and land, far as the eye can see. None o' this city crowdin' we've got around here. The ranch is about a good two-three hour ride from the city, so's we don't go up there 'cept for once a week."

Country living didn't exactly appeal to Runner, but he'd heard Jack complain enough about New York CIty's skyscrapers and concrete that he understood that this was along the lines of paradise for Jack. He nodded briskly. "What brings ya back here now?"

"Comin' to see my nephew get born and see some old friends," he laughed. "Man, you're near as tall as I am now! Time sure does fly. Fifteen . . . I remember when I was fifteen. Doesn't feel like it was all that long ago." He looked to Al for confirmation and she nodded with her eyebrows raised as if she couldn't quite register how much time had passed either.

Al swore under her breath as she snatched a pan out from the oven and held it up near her face for inspection. Both men watched her for a moment in case she needed their assistance, but she seemed to have it all under control. They turned back to one another.

"How're things with the newsies?" Jack questioned, his head cocked to the side.

Runner shrugged and kept his face straight, hoping nothing in his expression gave away his unease with the situation. "Same old same old," he lied. Well, he supposed it wasn't a full lie. They'd had trouble with Brooklyn for a while now, it wasn't Runner's problem if Jack wasn't aware of that. Anyway, he didn't want to talk about it right now. "How was the train ride?"

"Long," Jack laughed and shrugged. "And loud. I'd forgotten how loud trains are. We had one hell of a time tryin'a fall asleep in all that racket."

"We?"

Before Jack could answer, David's voice was heard as he greeted Racetrack and swung the door closed behind him.

Al grabbed at her brother, held a finger over her lips, and motioned for him to stand in the corner. The message was clear. She wanted him to hide and surprise David, who had had been one of Jack's closest friends for years now. Jack silently obeyed, though not without gracing his sister with a roll of his eyes.

Runner shook his head gently and smiled as Al started rambling as if the two of them had been in the middle of a conversation, so as not to raise David's suspicions when he walked in the room.

David walked into the room and Al broke off her stream of words in order to embrace her husband and give him a quick kiss on the lips. When they pulled away from each other, David's eyebrows were knit together.

"Al, who're those kids in there?" he asked gently, as if speaking too loud would anger her. He seemed to be watching his wife carefully and Runner wondered why. More importantly, he wondered what Al's answer would be, seeing as he had been wondering the same thing since he had arrived at the apartment.

"Oh, that's Lily and Collin. Hey, I've got some great news-"

"Don't you think it's a little too soon?" he asked her softly, his hands resting gently on her shoulders. It was as if he was holding her together, Runner thought. Like David thought if he took his hands away that she would shatter into a thousand pieces and scatter across the linoleum floor.

Al drew back at his words, though she didn't pull entirely away.

What was it too soon for? Runner snatched a look at Jack, who was now chewing on his bottom lip, looking as confused as Runner felt.

"They're not like Jenna, they've got a father," she hissed, emotion coloring her voice. "They're just over for dinner."

"Oh," David answered, shamefaced. "Whose children are they?"

"Mine," Jack stated proudly, stepping forward, apparently fed up with the hiding thing.

Al scowled at David and turned back toward the food. Her husband didn't seem to notice her disdain, preoccupied as he was with Jack's return. The moment the man stepped out from his not-so-very-hidden hiding spot, David's face split into a wide grin and the two lunged at each other for a warm, brotherly embrace.

"Long time no see, Davy. Looks like things are goin' well for ya. Look at you, all grown up and now havin' a baby with my sistah."

"How's Santa Fe? I can't believe you're in town. Al told me you were gonna come, but I didn't really dare to hope. It's good to see ya, Jack."

The two talked over each other and Runner turned from it to Al. He didn't want to hear all the extra chatter. He wanted to know how Jack had two kids that old when he had only left four years ago. He was still in his twenties, for goodness sake! He would have had to have them in his mid-teens!

"Al?"

She turned from where she was scowling at the sauce pan. "Mmm?"

"Those kids're Jack's?"

"Yeah," she answered, seeming to break out of her dark thoughts. "They're orphans 'e took in a couple months ago. It's a surprise to me too."

"Makes sense," Runner answered, understanding now. He looked around. "Hey, where's Jenna? She go out for groceries?"

The conversation between Jack and David died in the air like fog burned away by the rising sun. Runner risked a glance backward and saw the two men looking warily at Al just as she responded.

"She left," Al answered. Her voice once again colored with the same emotion it had held before. "She left a note for me last night. She just left. No money, no nothin'. Just the clothes on her back." Runner could see the pain in her eyes.

The news was sad, but not surprising. She didn't seem to be the type that would stick around long. She was too scared; too distrustful.

He chewed on his tongue a moment. "I'll have my boys look for 'er first thing in the morning. If we don't find her, I'll make sure they keep their eyes out for her."

"You don't 'ave to do that, Runner. Your boys have already done too much." Even as she said it, he could see the hope in her eyes.

"I ain't sayin' we're gonna drag her back. We're just gonna make sure she's okay and makes sure she doesn't get 'erself into trouble."

"Of course," Al answered. "But Runner, if you see 'er, make sure to tell her that we love her an' that she's always welcome to come back home."


	21. Dare

_**Author's Note: Once again, I owe y'all an apology for being late. Granted, this time it's only by 3 1/2 hours. I had most of it done before work today and I even put a note on my profile saying it would be up by 2am today. Wanna know what time I ended up getting off work? 3AM! I'm exhausted and ready to get to bed, so here's the chapter, I hope you enjoy it!**_

_**Thank you woundedhearts, natalieblack2, Ealasaid Una, JacobsConlonBrooklynNewsie, Clair Lawson, and autumnamberleaves for your wonderful reviews. Y'all are amazing and I sincerely appreciate every review and everything you have to say. :)**_

**Chapter 21- Dare**

The next week passed more quickly than any of them could have imagined. The presence of Jack and his kids in the apartment kept Racetrack and Al from going stir crazy and killing each other out of sheer boredom. The small apartment was constantly in motion, keeping them all incredibly busy. Sarah and Genie both came by during that time; Genie a day before David's sister.

Genie and Jack got along well and Collin took quite well to her, but Racetrack glowered every time Cowboy so much as glanced at the ginger woman. Al couldn't help snickering every time she noticed it. Finally, though, she had to take Jack aside to warn him that Genie was considered off-limits. Jack took one look at Race and burst out laughing, but he toned down his naturally flirtatious nature in honor of his friend's feelings.

Sarah's arrival was a much more awkward affair. She and Les had both been so busy with their separate undertakings that the news of Jack's return hadn't been relayed to her just yet. (Al suspected her youngest brother was too scared to break the news to her.) She let herself into the apartment, not bothering to knock, struggling with a rather large wicker basket that housed the clothing she had either purchased or mended for the newsboys, as well as a few baby items she had gone through the trouble of throwing together. Her hair had been windswept and her cheeks ruddy with effort as she called for Al and made her way into the kitchen. She was halfway through the living room before she noticed Jack sitting on the couch, a book in his hand and two children snuggled up on either side of him. They had all paused and were looking at her as if she had come from another planet.

Needless to say, introductions were made and, when Al finally entered the room, Sarah was quickly whisked away so as to recover from the shock of suddenly walking in on the man who had broken her heart only a few years ago.

Al's stomach was getting so large that she looked nearly ready to pop. Genie had ordered that she take it easy, cook a bit less and spend more time reclining. Even with being confined to the house, this was a challenge for the normally bustling woman. However, David went out of his way to get more books from the library that she could read and the others did their best to jump up and help her with anything that needed doing.

With the newsboys, things were eerily quiet. After their meeting with Brooklyn, Runner didn't know what he had expected, but it certainly wasn't this. He hadn't heard so much as a peep from Brooklyn and that didn't sit well with him. Foreboding ate at his stomach, even as he was distracted by the search for Jenna.

The search had lasted all of two days. Runner had commissioned all of his boys to ask around and keep a sharp eye out for Jenna, but they had all come back empty handed. Either she was long gone from Manhattan or she was excellent at hiding. Runner finally called off the search, but told his boys to let him know if she was spotted anyway. Listener and Les were the only ones still taking a little extra time where they could to look around for her, but Runner had given up hoping she would return and spent it hoping instead that she would keep herself safe out there. Runner still looked, for Al's benefit, but he knew better than to expect any results on that front.

* * *

With a sigh of irritation, Jenna pushed her feet along, trudging across the warm cement as if it were actively trying to hold her back. Why was it that she was constantly hungry? It was simply maddening how she would manage to get herself a bit of food and it hardly sat in her stomach an hour before she was clambering for more food.

She was also exhausted. Trying to find a job that didn't include whoring about or require having a good deal of money in advance was nearly impossible and she hadn't had a good night's rest since she left the Jacobs' house. Sleeping in the open required her to always be on her guard and she had lost count of how many times she woke in the night from the slightest of noises. Her original three day window for finding an honest job that would take her had long passed and now she looked as homeless as she was. Her hair had matted and managed to get dirt all in it, the hem of her skirt had managed to get all torn up the other night when a bit of it caught on a nail protruding from an old wooden crate. Her face was no doubt dirty enough to hide her freckles, if her hands were any indication.

Disgusted with her current condition she moved her hands up to her head and clumsily formed it into a braid that would make it look somewhat reasonable. She tried not to think about how clean her skin and hair would be if she were still with Al and David. She tried not to think of how full her stomach would be either. If she allowed her thoughts to drift that way, she would only begin to despair. It was too late now, that she was sure of. She was on her own.

Picking up a discarded stick, she walked along the cast iron fence that surrounded a nearby school, gently tapping it against each new bar while she walked its length. She needed to come up with a plan, even something rudimentary, or she was going to go insane. She didn't like this feeling of spiraling out of control, but that feeling seemed to be the _only_ constant in her life right now. She could almost scream at the unfairness of it all. If she didn't keep herself moving, she probably would.

She was looking down at her feet and listening to the steady clanging of wood against metal, so she didn't notice that she had company until she nearly ran headlong into someone's chest. Startled, she jumped backward and dropped the stick.

"Hey, watch it!"

Jenna looked up to see two boys, a bit older than herself, arms crossed over their chests as they looked at her with a mixture of contempt and disgust. They were clearly hoity-toity types that thought since she was grungy and unwashed that meant she was less than human. What were they doing standing outside a school anyway? It was apparent just by looking at them that they had enough money to still be in classes instead of working. It was a school day. Shouldn't they still be inside?

It didn't really matter. She made an irritated noise in the back of her throat and stepped around them. At least, she made to step around them, but the shorter of the two boys (still taller than her), reached out to shove her shoulder as she was trying to cross by him, causing her to stumble backward.

"What the hell?"

"I don't think you're showin' us the propah respect."

Despite the fact that she was on her own and if this turned into a fight, it would be two larger boys against one girl whose fighting was mediocre at best, Jenna couldn't help but laugh at their attempt at intimidation. They would have to do a lot more than shove her shoulder and posture themselves as if they were important people if they wanted to scare her. Their parents may be important, but_ they_ certainly weren't. Even if they were, they weren't important enough for her to give a damn about.

She rolled her eyes and gave them a withering look before trying to step past them again. This time, the dark haired boy grabbed her upper arm, instead of simply shoving her. His grasp was stronger than he looked and she was almost impressed.

"Let go of me," she growled dangerously.

The blonde boy sneered. "Are you gonna make us?"

Indignation washed over her like a wave of hot water. How dare he? Why was it that a wash and their parents' money made them better than her? She ground her teeth. She may get pounded for it, but she wasn't about to play the little remorseful street urchin that didn't want any trouble. She _could _probably apologize for something she didn't do and manage to walk away without a scuffle, but she was hungry and tired and pissed beyond belief. If they wanted to start something, then she would rise to the occasion. She could take a beating if she had to - if, even for a second, it would show these boys that they weren't as almighty as they seemed to think they were.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" she raged, jerking her arm out of the boy's grasp. "Treatin' me like shit just 'cause you've got yourself a fancy house an' food on the table. You sick little bastards, I hope you rot in it like the filthy little pigs you are!"

Jenna stormed away, feeling hot in the face and satisfied by the fact that she had received the opportunity to thrash the two boys with her words. She half wished she'd had the presence of mind to say more, cut deeper with her insults, but she was content with what she had. So wrapped up was she in her thoughts of triumph that she didn't hear the pounding footsteps behind her until a moment too late.

Before she could turn around, a hand closed over her shoulder and spun her back just enough for a second hand to grasp the other shoulder and shove her full force into the metal fence that barred entrance into the school. Her back took the brunt of the hit, but her head banged into the bars a second after the rest of her. It wasn't enough force to make her see stars, but it was enough that she figured resting the back of her head against the bricks in alleyways was going to be quite uncomfortable for the next couple of days.

The blonde spoke for the first time yet. "Listen here, you little bitch-"

Before he could continue, Jenna spat in his face. She remained defiant even as the rage in his eyes told her she had just made him dangerous. She had seen that look in men's eyes before. It wasn't exactly a good sign, but she was too fed up to care.

His hands squeezed more tightly around her shoulders and he rammed her into the fence a second time before pulling back and slamming his knuckles against her cheek. Her knees went weak a moment, threatening to buckle beneath her, but she leaned against the fence to keep her standing long enough to regain the strength in her legs.

"Wesley-" the other boy said cautious tone.

Wesley paid no heed. In fact, it seemed he didn't even hear his friend.

It didn't matter anyway. A second later, Jenna dug her nails into the skin of his right arm (the one that was still holding her up against the gate) and dragged them toward his wrist, leaving four deep red gashes all the way down his forearm. Pinpricks of blood immediately started welling up all along the reddened lines.

This time, Jenna dodged the blow that came her way. It had been a sloppy swing, as Wesley was a bit more preoccupied with his enflamed forearm than exacting revenge. His friend darted forward and she sidled to her right in an attempt to get away. Before he reached her, though, there was a suddenly a body acting as a buffer between her and the other boys.

"Buzz off, Jacobs," Wesley growled, leaving his bleeding arm at his side as he strode forward.

"Come any closer an' I'll soak the tar outta you," the body threatened. It took Jenna few seconds to realize it was Les standing between herself and certain pain. She was too surprised to be grateful.

"You wouldn't da-" Wesley had come too close and Les struck out so quickly that Jenna almost missed it. The blonde kid hit the ground hard.

"You wanna try me too, Carpenter? You know I can take you. And don't think I don't know who started this."

The darker boy gave an indignant look before walking away, reluctantly looking back at his friend who was still sprawled across the concrete, conscious but not getting up any time soon either.

Les turned to Jenna. "You alright?"

She shrugged and then grimaced as little streaks of pain crisscrossed her back. The grimace didn't feel much better, now that she certainly had bruising across her cheek. She realized with a frown that the bruising would make finding a job that much harder for her. If she wasn't so scared of Brooklyn, she would try her luck where bruising was more likely to be overlooked; but she would have to have a death wish to go over there after half of the newsboys now recognized her as one of Manhattan's girls.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I oughta be askin' you that," Les answered shaking his head. He answered anyway. "I go to school here. I saw you run into these two bastards through the window an' it took me this long to weasel my way outta class and get out here."

Jenna squinted back at the school. "You could recognize me all the way from there."

"Actually, I recognized the shirt. It's one o' Al's old ones, right?" He gestured to the dark red shirt she was wearing before shoving his hands into his pockets. "Took me a second to realize it must be you out here. You _would_ manage to get yourself in a fight with Wesley Lawrence an' Jay Carpenter." He shook his head as if he was both amused and irritated.

Feeling supremely uncomfortable, Jenna coughed. "Well, I'll just be goin' then. Thanks."

She tried to hurry away, but he caught up with her and continued walking beside her.

"Shouldn't you be in class?"

Les shrugged, "My grades're too good for them to kick me out. They'll survive without me for anothah day."

She gave him a sideways glance. "Why are you bein' so nice to me?"

"You want me to be mean?" Les asked, somewhat defensively.

"I'm just sayin', you've been an ass to me since day one an' now you're defendin' me in a fight. What's that all about?"

"We first met after I saved you in a fight. _You_ were an ass to _me _first, not the othah way around."

Jenna conceded on this point, he was right and her head was hurting too much for her to bother arguing anyway.

"Where have you _been_? We've been lookin' everywhere for you these last couple days?"

"You were?" Jenna asked, surprised.

"Typical," Les answered, rolling his eyes. "We have all our boys roaming the streets for one girl an' they manage to do such a bad job of it that she doesn't even know they were trying." He seemed to be talking more to himself than to her, but now turned to cock an eyebrow at her. "Of course we went looking for you, you're a part of the family now."

"But you said-"

"Never mind what I said," Les answered quickly, sounding frustrated. "I was angry an' I'm sorry."

Surprised by his unexpected apology and the emotion behind it, Jenna hesitated. She didn't know what she was meant to say now so she kept quiet. They were still walking further and further away from the school, aimlessly keeping their feet moving. She had the feeling that if they were both standing still, they would be fidgeting, thus they chose to walk in an attempt to dispel at least some of the awkwardness.

Finally, she let out the smallest of sighs. "You know I can't go back."

"Why not?" he asked. At first, she thought it was a challenge, but when she looked at him, she saw he was genuinely curious.

Jenna looked off somewhere to her left, grasping for words, "I don't know. I just- I just can't."

"Fine," Les responded slowly. "I can't pretend I understand, but I'll play along. But if you won't go back, at least let me help you. You look hungry an' you could do with a good wash too."

"And where am I supposed to do that?" she asked, giving him an irritated look.

"C'mon. Sarah won't be home for another two or three hours."

After much dragging of her feet, Jenna finally acquiesced and allowed Les to drag her to his apartment. She made him go up and make sure Sarah wasn't home and was hardly in the door when he shoved two towels and a dress he claimed was Sarah's from when she was younger into her arms. He pointed her toward the bathroom and told her to use whatever she found in there.

Jenna slipped into the bathroom, too excited about the fact that she was about to be clean again to feel uncomfortable. She locked the door behind her and set the clothing and towels on the back of the toilet before running the water. As she scrubbed away the grime and filth on her body, she watched the clear water turn murky and realized that she was actually managing to relax. She felt safe, even alone in this apartment with Les.

It struck her then that somehow Les had managed to make her feel safe. Normally, being alone in an apartment with a man would have terrified her. She could only think of one other man that she had ever felt even slightly safe with, and that was David. It had taken a while to form that trust with him, but even now she knew he would never hurt her, just as she knew that Les wouldn't either. Come to think of it, she felt the same way when it came to Listener and Runner; maybe even Racetrack.

She trusted them. The full realization of that fact was enough to give her pause and Jenna felt a tightening in her chest accompany her stomach as it flipped uncomfortably within her.

She shook her head rapidly as if the motion would dispel this trusting nonsense. It was okay to trust women, it was inadvisable and she often reprimanded herself for it, but it was _unacceptable_ to trust men. That would be like throwing oneself to the lions.

She dug her nails into the tender flesh of her wrist as angry tears slid down either side of her face.

_You can't trust them. Trust no one, you hear me? They'll only hurt you._

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't make herself believe that Les would do anything to purposefully hurt her.

_**Disclaimer: Jay Carpenter and Wesley Lawrence are property of Kirsten Erin (me), are many other characters from this chapter, actually. All others are property of people much more important than me.**_


	22. Siblings

_**Author's Note: Finally! A new chapter! I promised January 30th and here it is. :) It's been a crazy couple of months with lots of travel and much more work. I'm officially working 40 hours a week now and next time I update I'll officially be the Assistant Store Manager at the video store where I work. It's all pretty exciting, though it's still exhausting. :P Anyway, I've been working hard at battling my writer's block with this story and hopefully we'll have it all hashed up and figured out soon. See y'all next Wednesday! ;)**_

**Chapter 22- Siblings**

_Everything just smells like you  
And now my head is throbbing_  
_Every song is out of tune (just like you)_  
_In the dark I can fight it 'til it disappears_  
_But in the daylight, I taste you in my tears_  
_~Hungover:KeSha~_

Sarah did her best to look unaffected and poised as she walked toward her brother's home, even though anxiety ate through her stomach like acid. She hated that Jack could still make her feel inadequate and awkward though it had been years since their breakup. Seeing him again was torture, but it was a torture that couldn't be avoided. It would mean avoiding all the rest of her friends . . . and admitting defeat. Neither option was acceptable in her mind.

Sarah took a deep breath and raised her throbbing finger to her lips. She had stuck a pin in it while sewing earlier this afternoon and she sucked on it to stop the ache a moment. She blamed this on Jack too. After all, it was worrying about his return that had caused her to become preoccupied in the first place.

She would simply have to tough it out. There was no use denying that. If she could pretend like nothing happened, like he had always been nothing more than David's brother-in-law, she could make it through this.

She took the stairs two at a time to reach her brother's apartment and composed herself, shifting the sewing basket she carried from one arm to the other. Sewing seemed to be her life as of late. The newsboys were forever tearing through shirts like a weed shooting through the ground, but they made do. They reused most of the clothes they had and hen one boy grew out of a thing it was passed down to another, but material only lasted so long. Most of those shirts were patched up by Sarah dozens of times before they practically disintegrated and she was forced to buy new material for the shirt or pair of pants to replace it.

Skittery gave her a small percentage of what he made each month. It was nothing to boast about, but it gave her enough to buy a few bolts of new material each month. It wasn't like she needed to pay rent and Papa took care of her food. Sometimes she had to dip into the money she had saved up over the years though. She didn't have much stored away, what with her helping out with the newsies and sometimes with her family's bills, but she was proud of what she had raised.

She didn't bother knocking when she reached the door. She never did when she came to their home, especially now that there were so many people living in it. Besides, they were expecting her today.

The last time that she had come by, she hadn't known that Jack was home or that he was now father to two orphan children he had picked up. It had taken her a while to get acclimated and put herself back together, but it hadn't taken her more than a few seconds to realize the children needed new clothes. Jack may be doing well for himself in Santa Fe, but not well enough to see that his children wore clothes that fit, apparently. In fact, his own shirt was torn in so many places that she finally demanded that he put it and all other torn pieces of laundry into her sewing basket, along with most of the children's clothes (which wasn't much). She spent the next few days making little Lily a new dress and a decent pair of trousers for Collin. The rest of the time she spent patching up Jack's clothes. She could smell him on the fabric and it threatened to drive her insane. It kept coaxing back those memories that had once been treasured, threatening to send her into a rage and nearly causing her to burst into tears all at once.

She walked in on what she suspected was meant to be a session "Baking with Auntie Al" that seemed to have turned into some kind of flour war. Sarah poked her head into the kitchen just in time to see Colin pick up a fistful of flour from a pile on the ground an drop it over his sister's head. Jack was soaking his entire left hand in what looked like a bucket of ice water while Al was checking on whatever was cooking in the oven. Her apron had proven ineffectual and she was covered with flour handprints, both her own and the children's, as well as some other ingredients. A streak down the left side of her face looked suspiciously like chocolate and Sarah was almost entirely certain that she could spot a splatter of egg on the left side of her extended stomach.

Sarah swooped in just in time to snatch the bag of sugar that Lily was about to pour over her brother's head in retaliation.

"Let's not ruin perfectly good sugar," she chastised gently before setting the bag out of reach. She turned to Al, "And you need to sit down. I know Genie told you that you oughta be resting."

"Aw, Genie just likes bein' in charge. 'Sides, I don't see how a bit of bakin' is gonna do any harm." She moved to her chair anyway, likely knowing that Sarah would persist until she got her way. Meanwhile, Lily was patterning Jack's black breeches with a series of crooked handprints that she clearly thought would make them more stylish.

"An' what happened to you?" Sarah questioned as she crossed the kitchen to where he stood, her shoes already covered in a powdery white dusting. She couldn't just ignore him, after all.

"Burnt my hand," he answered, looking sour about it.

With a heavy roll of her eyes she pulled his hand out of the bowl, only to squint at it, finding hardly a trace of a burn there. She traced the callouses on his palms with her gaze, not daring to touch them. Even holding his hand now, she could remember when he used to take her hand and hold it as they walked the streets and how it felt when the fingers of that hand threaded their way through her hair, pushing it back just before he kissed her.

She had to resist the overwhelming urge to press hard on the spot he had indicated so that he would feel some of the pain she did. Instead, she dropped the offending hand so quickly that she might have been burnt from the burn she couldn't see. "I don't see anything," she said a little more harshly than she had intended.

"Well it hurts.

"He's just bein' a baby. He hardly touched that pan," Al called from where she sat ineffectively wiping food off her clothing. "If Race were in here, you'd be playin' it off like you had meant to touch it."

"Papa!" Lily screeched as a plea for help as Collin smashed his flour covered hand into her face. Jack pulled Lily away from her brother as Sarah scooped up the younger boy and placed him behind her on the ground, effectively gaining two flour handprints on the sleeves of her dress.

Lily was sputtering and Jack knelt down, forgetting his burnt hand as he grabbed a dishtowel, wet it in the bowl he'd been using, and gently washed her face clear of the flour that clung to it and threatened to make its way up her nose with ever breath. Sarah felt a pang of something akin to heartache, colored with a bit of longing, as she watched the tender moment between the man who had broken her heart and his adoptive daughter. She tore her gaze away and looked to Al.

"Where did all this mess come from?" she questioned, ignoring Al's probing look. She knew exactly what her sister-in-law was looking for and didn't intend to hand it over to her.

Al grinned at the question. "Mr. Graceful there don't know how to walk two feet without bangin' into something. 'e tripped over Collin and sent half the flour flyin' through the air. Lucky he didn't get much into the batter or we would've had to throw it out."

Jack through the two women an indignant look, but didn't put in his objections.

"Then Lily tripped on the flour when she was carryin' the sugar an' we got this little fight as a response. Jack was so distracted that he tried to get the pan without a glove an' burnt hisself. That's where the chocolate on the floor came from." Al pointed at the floor beneath the oven that Sarah hadn't noticed which had chocolate smeared across it.

Sarah stepped over to peer in the oven. Chocolate chip cookies had apparently been the goal and, so far, the second batch was turning out well enough.

"Alright, you two need to strip down and get yourselves in the tub. Collin, you can go first. Lily, I'll need your help."

Collin whined about wanting to play, but obeyed when Al came over and helped him out of his clothes. He let out a little shriek of wild delight when he was naked and dashed around them into the living room.

"Don't waste time runnin' 'round Collin or I'll come aftah you. Get in the tub," Al called.

Sarah got the kitchen clean in a little less than an hour. Lily helped until Collin was out of the bath, then was sent to get in it herself. Sarah provided the new dress and breeches she had made for them, which they really enjoyed. Jack helped clean the kitchen, even if he wasn't very good at it. Al tried, but neither Sarah or Jack would allow her to do anything more than clean the counters she could reach while seated.

When everything was finished, they took a wet washrag and wiped away the bits of flour that had made it onto their clothes, causing Jack in particular to look like he had taken a swim. Then they grabbed the plate of cookies and sojourned into the living room, each of them tired and ready to relax with a snack.

Lily and Collin came at the cookies in full force, but Jack snatched it away and out of reach. "Ya each get one 'n a half. Got it?" They nodded, though looking severely put out, and let Jack split the second cookie for them.

Sarah had the urge to say something cutting, like a snide remark on how she would never have expected him to make a good father or something along those lines, but she held her tongue. It wasn't fair for her to take out her anger on him. She needed to let go and move on. Then again, she'd been telling herself that for the past four years.

Frustrated with herself and the man on the couch across from her, she grabbed another cookie and turned to the one adult in the room that she wasn't angry with. "So where's Race?" she asked Al. "Isn't he supposed to stay inside too?"

"Prolly napping. Boy's either complainin' or sleepin' lately. He's gonna go nuts if he has to stay cooped up much longer an' I'mma follow 'im not long after."

"Speakin' of which, Ma and Pa want me to invite all o' you to dinner tomorrow night." Sarah paused and swallowed a bite of her cookie. "I know you aren't supposed to be leavin', but they miss you. 'Sides, they heard Jack's back an' wanna see him." They had all agreed to keep the information that the Five Points Gang was after Racetrack and Al to themselves. The news would only cause Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs to worry. Beyond that, Sarah knew Al still carried that memory of David getting into it with their parents after the two of them had nearly been caught by the bulls during the strike. Sarah knew her parents had apologized to Al for it, but it was clear that Al still worried they would hold any dangerous situation she became a part of against her. They wouldn't, Sarah knew instinctively. They loved Al to pieces in much the same way as they treasured Jack.

* * *

Jenna sat with her back against a tree close to the double doors that Les had indicated as the ones he would be coming out of precisely at three. She'd had the school yard all to herself for the last half hour, though there wasn't much she could do other than observe the people who passed by the fence on their way to one thing or another. She wondered if she was technically allowed to be sitting out here. Not that it really mattered. It wasn't like she was doing anything wrong. She couldn't get in trouble for just sitting, could she?

She leaned her head back against the rough bark of the tree and thought about how two or three weeks ago, she would have never guessed that she would now be friends with Les, waiting outside his school after he helped her out of a tight spot. Then again, a few weeks before that, she wouldn't have thought anyone would care enough to take in the raggedy girl she had become.

Les had promised he would help her find a job today. That was the mission they had prepared the day before after she had eaten her fill and taken more to eat at dinner. Then Les had coaxed her into sleeping on their fire escape at the very least, so that she would be safer and he would be nearby if anything happened. He had even lent her a pillow and blanket that she had originally refused, but he stubbornly left outside so that she had no choice but to accept his hospitality.

Who would have known that Les was so caring? Apparently Al hadn't been exaggerating when she told stories that included his being particularly sweet or understanding. It was new side to him that she was surprised but happy to find. She wondered if this was what it was like to have a brother and the thought gave her an unexpected pang of jealousy. How wonderful it would have been to have a built in friend; someone who loves you for you.

She was still dwelling on this thought when she felt something push against her shoe and opened her eyes. Les was standing at her feet, squinting at her and pulling one of his boots away from her foot. The rest of the kids from the school were milling about, chatting with each other as they made their way home. More than a few of them glanced her way and then whispered in each others' ears.

"Most of 'em have heard about yesterday by now," Les offered by way of explanation. He reached out a hand and she accepted it, letting him pull her to her feet. "We off to find you a job now?"

Jenna nodded and the two of them walked away in amiable silence.

They asked around at more than a few different shops. Most turned them away, a few asked questions before shaking their heads and telling the two teenagers that nothing could be done for them and they would have to look elsewhere. Les was a natural, easily able to chat up the store clerks and bullshit his way through the questions Jenna didn't know the answers to or that she didn't feel comfortable answering.

More than one time, they were asked their relationship to each other by nosy adults. They both said "siblings" immediately the first time and they stuck with it after that.

They were just about to give up for the day when the two nearly ran into Genie and Runner as they crossed a market where the former was stocking up on her flower supply. Les's quick eye and Jenna's quick thinking managed to get the two of them safely hidden behind a stack of discarded barrels beside a nearby restaurant.

"Why is this so important to you?" Les questioned as they leaned against the brick wall, the two of them wedged behind the barrels so that their feet were pressed up against them.

"What?"

"This," he answered, a little irritated at having to explain himself. "I mean, I've been trying to be understanding and give you your space, but I honestly can't think of a single reason why you might think this is a good idea."

"I-That's not fair."

"Oh, why not?"

"It's-I-" she stopped, frustrated. Her hands tugged at the edges of her skirt like she was trying to rip his question in two so that she wouldn't have to provide an answer for it. When that didn't work, her hands moved to her hair.

Les's brows furrowed and he spoke more softly this time, "Why is it so hard for you to talk about this?"

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "I just- I don't know how."

Les brought his thumb up to his mouth and began chewing on the nail. Jenna resisted the urge to slap it away. She could easily see the dirt under it from where she sat.

"Haven't you ever had anyone you could confide in?"

"Confide?" she questioned, tasting the unfamiliar word on her tongue.

"Someone you could talk to. Share your secrets with."

"Oh. No, not really."

"Huh," he paused, looking thoughtful even in the shady darkness. "Well, I don't know what to do about that. Normally, I'd suggest talkin' to Al about it, but you don't even wanna live with her anymore. . . Oh!" Jenna jerked her head toward him at the sound of his exclamation. "Why don't ya try talkin' to Listener. Ya know, since his name is Listener an' stuff. He's really good at hearin' people out and giving good advice."

Jenna tried to think of a good reason why she shouldn't, but Les was already standing up.

"That's it, I'll take ya to Listener. He'll keep any secrets you wanna share _an'_ he won't say a woid to anyone about me having found you."

"I don't think-" Jenna tried to protest, her heart pounding a dent into her rib cage at the thought of it. "I - I though you wanted to hear why this was a problem."

Les looked at her seriously. "I don't care who you talk about this to, but I got a feeling you need to get this off your chest . . . and prolly a lot of other things too. I just want you to deal with whatever it is you're tryin' to do. Talking about it to someone will give you a new perspective on it."

With that, he grabbed her hand and began to drag her in the direction of the Lodge. She followed behind him, hesitant, but not exactly resisting. A part of her wanted to know if what Les suggested might actually work. The other part of her wanted to hightail it as far away from this crazy newsboy as quickly as she could manage.

"I don't wanna talk to _anyone_ about _anything_," she yelled over the sound of the crowd as the two teens pushed through their way back through the market crowd.

"I don't believe you," he yelled back at her, barely managing to dodge an old woman. "You know, you remind me o' my sister-in-law sometimes. Honestly, it's a little obnoxious." With that, he plunged further into the crowd, still pulling a reluctant Jenna in his wake.


	23. Hot Air

_**Author's Note: I'm glad to hear that y'all enjoyed the last chapter and that I still have a couple of readers, even after practically abandoning you for that two month period and making you wait so terribly long for more of this story. I don't even want to think about how many readers my Narnia stories have lost.  
Anyway, I'm doing my best to keep you from having to wait so long for a chapter again. So here's the next one and right on time. :)**_

**Chapter 23- Hot Air**

_I could follow you to the beginning  
Just to relive the start  
Maybe then we'd remember to slow down  
At all our favorite parts  
All I wanted was you  
~All I Wanted Was You: Paramore~_

"Oi, how dare you talk to a lady like that?!" Runner stormed out from behind the stack of crates he'd been using as cover. He claimed he was simply lounging in the shade, but Genie had been stuck with him long enough to know his habits. The boy was constantly on guard, even when he was consulting with those of his newsies that seemed to show up on a daily basis. She couldn't help but wonder how they always found him, even when he wasn't selling outside her home or her shop. Perhaps they had some sort of system when it came to seeking out their leader?

"Oh, an' who're you?" Mr. Murray responded, spitting a wad of tobacco to his left. For a man that sold flowers, he was quite ugly and extremely uncultured. He was one of Genie's best resources for roses, though, even if he was a hassle to deal with.

"Runner, it's of no consequence. I've got it taken care of," Genie told him calmly.

"So you know this little shit?" the older man questioned, now giving Runner a once over. "Looks like street trash to me."

"At least this street trash knows how to speak to a woman," Runner answered evenly, though his face carried traces of disgust as he gave the other man a similar once over. "You'd do well to learn it yourself."

"Mr. Murray," Genie cut in, stepping between the two. "All I need is my usual order. Nothin' fancy; nothin' pricey. An' stop tryin'a sell me that shit about prices goin' up. Ya think I don't talk to other vendors? I know how crops 'ave been this year an' if you can't give me the usual rate, I'll take me business somewhere else." She placed her hands firmly on her hips and leveled him with a fierce glare.

Mr. Murray gave her a long look. She could see Runner out of the corner of her eye, looking calm but watchful. Once again, she thanked her stars that she hadn't been situated with one of the more hotheaded boys. She was hotheaded enough for the two of them. She had a hard enough time keeping herself from losing both customers and sellers via the loss of her temper and she didn't need anyone else adding to that particular problem. Besides, she could handle things just fine on her own, thank you very much.

With a sigh, the man relented and motioned to his boys to start filling Genie's wheelbarrow with her order. Then he glared at Runner for the duration of the time it took for them to finish up the job and well until both Genie and Runner were around the bend and out of sight.

"I swear to the good Laird, Runner, if you lose me a deal like that because o' your interferin', I'll end you," Genie scolded as she trudged down the cobblestone walkway beside him. He pushed the wheelbarrow as if it were nothing, though Genie knew full well that it was a difficult task to get it from here to the shop. She couldn't help envying the ease with which he was able to transport it. At least she got one good thing out of this "guarding" business. To tell the truth, now that the initial fear had worn off, she was sick of having to be escorted to this place and that. She appreciated the fact that Runner cared enough to keep an eye on her, but at this point, she couldn't think of anything more appealing than having a few days entirely by herself. Sometimes she even caught herself hoping the Delanceys or the Five Points Gang would make their move, if only so that there would be an end to all this anxious waiting and she could move on with her life the way it had previously been.

Then again, a move from either party could very well mean her death. That wouldn't be quite so welcome.

"I was bein' a gentlemen," Runner responded to her remark with just a hint of a smirk on his thin lips. How the hell had he grown up to be such a smartass?

"Well, stop it. That's helpful in normal situations, I suppose, but I can't afford losin' his business. I'll let you know when I need your interference." Genie sighed and haphazardly shoved a loose lock of hair back into her bun. It fell out immediately. She cursed under her breath, but left it alone this time.

"I see why Race likes ya," Runner commented, giving her a sideways glance.

"What did I hear ya say, lad? D'ya really want me to box yer ears?" She clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Spendin' too much time with that brother o' David's. Meddlin' in things that ain't your business," she muttered irritably.

"S'not like he made it a secret."

She threw a glare in his direction. "Yeah, which is why we're in this mess right now an' I'm havin' to be guarded by a pup of a man."

Runner let out a belly laugh that only served to irritate the Irish woman further. "You're as ornery, if not more ornery, than Race; you're beautiful; you're tough as a nail and somehow still sweet as candy . . . when you wanna be."

Genie was flattered by his description of her. She reddened as she answered, "That's real sweet of ya, but-"

"Those were Race's words, not mine," he pointed out cheekily. "Though I don't think he's far from the truth."

He ducked a half-hearted swipe from the woman whose face was now a bright shade of maroon and shoved ahead, grinning to himself as she sputtered behind him.

* * *

Sarah dipped a giggling Lily, then brought her back up, seconds before sending her into a series of little spins that had the young girl beaming from ear to ear, her dark hair billowing out behind her. Al watched from the couch, grinning just as big as she watched the two of them dance together. Collin slept soundly in her lap, curled around her rounded stomach with his head resting sweetly on her shoulder. The baby's kicks didn't seem to bother the sleeper. They had been coming at random intervals for the past ten minutes, almost as if her sweet child was dancing along to the music along with its aunt and cousin.

At first, Lily had been hesitant when Sarah had asked her to dance. The girl had been swaying to the scratchy music coming out of the small radio on the bookshelf and Sarah had always been the type to dance around the house when she was a girl. She figured Lily might enjoy doing the same. It hadn't taken her long to start giggling up a storm as Sarah whisked her around the room, though. It reminded her of when Les was much younger. He had once been quite the little ham, though such a gentleman, and frequently asked her to dance with him. He would posture himself like a prince and call her Princess Sarah as he did his best to whisk her around the room. David, whom even then could most often be found reading on the couch, would set down his book and laugh at the two of them until he couldn't resist the urge to dance himself and would cut in, stealing Sarah away from her youngest brother. This never phased the child, though. He simply went of to find "The Queen," his mother, to accompany him instead.

Oh, how she longed for those days when life had been far less complicated. Back then, she would have never even dreamed that in a few years, she would be no stranger to violence or worry. After all, didn't she find herself worrying about both David and Les's well-being on a daily basis? Why couldn't they go back to those carefree days? And bring along with them all of these wonderful people whom she'd grown to love so deeply since then?

Even with these sad thoughts swirling through her head, Sarah couldn't help the smile that spread across her own face as she danced with Lily. The little girl was a delight and Sarah loved to make her grin like that. With Jack currently out of the house, she didn't have to worry about keeping up appearances or looking dignified. She only worried about having fun and making this sweet girl laugh. Lily had encountered a much darker side of life than Sarah, Les, or David ever had at her age. She wouldn't be able to have those sweet memories of being carefree as a child, because her life had been so difficult up until the point where Jack had rescued them.

Even with the bitterness that clung to her heart, Sarah couldn't help but feel it swell with overwhelming affection for Cowboy. If he had one good quality, it was that he truly did care for those who needed help and was never too busy to do the rescuing himself. She could kiss him for bringing these beautiful children home with him. Who knows what their fate would have been without them?

She danced until she was out of breath and then collapsed onto the couch with Lily half on top of her.

"I'm getting too tightly wound, aren't I?" she said as she panted, pushing her loose hair out of her face. She didn't think she'd had this much fun in years, which was why she asked the question in the first place.

"I coulda told ya that years ago," Al answered with a bit of a smirk. "Oh wait, I've _been_ tellin' ya that. Glad you've finally decided to listen to me."

"You're a compassionate one," Sarah answered back.

"Part o' my charm."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "So, when are you gonna be allowed out o' the house?"

"Dunno. I was hopin' to talk with Davy about it tonight. Maybe he'll let us start wanderin' 'round again. I'm sick o' bein' stuck in here an' I'm sick of Listener screwin' up my groceries. I know the boy's tryin', but he ain't got a clue what he's doin' at the market." Al gently pushed Collin's hair out of his face as he adjusted how his head rested on her. Lily wriggled out of Sarah's arms and started twirling around again on her own. "I mean, we ain't seen hide nor 'air of the Delanceys or any of the Five Points Gang. Maybe they've given up. I mean, surely Paul Kelly's got better things to do than chase down some guy who managed to beat him at poker."

"You know it's not just about the game, Al," Sarah answered logically. "It's about power. He's showing that he's in control here. If he stops hunting Race, it'll look weak to his boys. He has to pursue it to some kind of end, doesn't he?"

"Who taught you so much about gang politics?" Al answered wryly, knowing full well that gang politics and "newsie politics" were ridiculously similar at times. Sarah's response made complete sense and she was almost definitely right. "We can't just hide forever. I refuse to cower in my apartment 'til they show up. This ain't how I handle things."

"You know why this is different." Sarah's eyes traveled down to her sister-in-law's belly.

Al growled in frustration. "It takes me four damn years to get pregnant and it couldn't have come at a more inconvenient time," she grumbled to herself.

Sarah couldn't help but chuckle her friend's disgruntled behavior. Honestly, she was surprised that her friend had been as well-behaved as she had through this pregnancy. Compared to her usual temperament, this was practically docile. "You've grown soft since your newsie days."

"I don't know how the hell I'm supposed to stay tough with all these kids around an' everyone treatin' me like I'm gonna shatter at the slightest movement."

Sarah softened, Al's words reminding them of their lost friend and her pregnancy-gone-wrong. "You've done real good, Al," she said honestly.

Al nodded, a little more solemnly than before. Sarah would bet her life that Al was thinking of Maggie too.

A key jiggled in the lock at that moment and the door swung open, effectively distracting them from their somber thoughts. In stepped David, shaking drops of water out of his hair.

Sarah moaned. "It's raining?"

"Unfortunately," David answered. "I'm surprised you're here."

"Nice to see you too, David," Sarah answered with an eye roll as he finished taking off his shoes and crossed the room to lay a kiss atop his wife's head.

He ignored her remark, likely for the sheer purpose of irritating her (as little brothers do so well). "Where are the others?"

"Race has taken over the kitchen again. I think it's the only way he can manage to stay sane." Al paused, breaking into a yawn that forced Collin to shift again. "Jack went out. Don't know where to. Wouldn't be surprised if he's visiting the Lodge again."

He had surprised the boys at the Lodge a few days before by popping in after most were back from their selling. He only knew about a third of the boys still there; kids who had been little more than a child when he was still running the show. However, the rest of the kids had heard about him. He had become near legend to them and Jack had played it up, as usual. After all, Jack had always been a sucker for a bit of hero-worship.

Sarah remembered when she used to look at him with eyes that saw everything he did as something amazing. It made her feel sick. Now, seeing him only caused her pain… and anger. The more she saw him now, the angrier she delt herself becoming. How dare he come back? How dare he taunt her by pushing himself back into their lives? It didn't matter that he was technically a part of her family now. It didn't even matter that she had only seconds ago been overwhelmingly grateful to him for bringing her new niece and nephew into her life. It only mattered that every time she saw him, she felt that ache in her chest and resentment grow in her heart.

She didn't want to think about that now. Instead, she stood up and went into the kitchen under the pretense of giving her brother a bit of privacy with his wife. Race immediately set her to work and she was able to lose herself in her tasks and her banter with Racetrack for a while. In fact, she was so absorbed in helping him that she didn't even notice when Jack walked in. She had only just whacked her friend in the back of the head with her palm for some snide remark he had made when she spotted him in the doorway.

She saw his smile fade at the same moment hers did and she turned away quickly, moving back to the sink where she had been rinsing off dishes a few minutes earlier. Jack coughed awkwardly and Race acknowledged the sudden change in mood by starting up with an exaggerated "Soooooo . . ."

Sarah desperately searched for something she could say to lift the uncomfortable silence and, better yet, prove to her ex that she was perfectly fine without him. Even as she tried, she instinctively knew it was a lost cause. Her brain had an obnoxious way of emptying itself every time she found herself in an uncomfortable situation with Jack . . . which happened to be quite often as of late.

"Uh, I thought y'all might need some help in here." He left the statement open, like he wasn't sure if it was a question or not.

A beat passed and Racetrack answered, "You could get the dishes ready. I figured the adults could eat in the living room an' we could leave the kitchen table to the kids."

Jack didn't respond audibly, but soon the sound of dishes being roughly removed from the cabinets met her ears. Meanwhile, Race started in on some story he claimed was a true account of his own sailing adventures, but Sarah suspected was actually someone else's tale. It didn't really matter. It passed the time until dinner was ready and they were all seated. Sarah sat beside her brother on the couch and was about to dig in when there was a knock on the door. Everyone paused.

"Who could that be?" Al questioned quietly. They certainly hadn't been expecting anyone and Listener had gone back to the Lodge the moment David had returned.

A muffled voice bellowed through the closed door. "Alrigh', let me in! It's just me an' I'm bound to catch my death out 'ere."

"Genie," Al answered her own question with a roll of her eyes and Sarah smiled. She started to stand, but Race beat her to it, practically running to get to the door first.

"Genie? What the hell?" He ushered her in, scowling at her even though it was more than a little obvious that he was pleased to see her. "It's dangerous. You can't go walking about in the night like that and all by yourself! Where's Runner? He would have walked you."

"I didn't come 'ere to get lectured," she told him pointedly as she removed her jacket, a light thing since it wasn't very cold out at all. "I needed a walk and some time to myself. I'm tired of being trailed by the wee one." She looked pointedly at the couch where David and Sarah sat together. "Boys' been spending' too much time with your brother. Keeps runnin' 'is mouth like it was the reason 'e got his name."

Sarah laughed at her irritated friend. "Come on, sit down. We've got plenty of food for you too."

"I'll get you a plate," Jack said, standing. "And you can 'ave my chair." He disappeared into the kitchen and Genie sat herself in the armchair he had been occupying, the small black one that Denton had purchased for David as a wedding gift.

A few moments later, Jack reentered with a chair from the kitchen and a plate for Genie. Sarah tried not to bristle when he handed it to her with a broad smile on his tanned face. She didn't stop herself from imagining what it would be like to knock that grin off his face, though.

"I'm only toleratin' that kid around me for another day or two. Then he's gonna have to clear out," Genie said after she'd taken a bite.

"And how do you suppose you're gonna make him stop following you?" David questioned.

"You're gonna have one hell of a time tryin'a get him off your tail," Race added.

Genie growled. "Don't those boys have enough on their plates? I mean, I appreciate their help, but they have themselves to look after. I don't needa be talkin' up all their time. Especially not Runner's."

"I've got to agree. We all know the area around my apartment is a low-selling area. Matches needs to be sent elsewhere. They haven't even tried to mess with me. And anyway, I can take them if they do," Sarah answered. Jack smiled in response to her words, though he wasn't exactly looking at her. It only served to irritate her further.

"They have guns this time," Al reminded her, though she wasn't arguing. It was more of a reminder.

"So do I. So do you. Maybe this is a sign we needa start carrying them around with us."

"That doesn't make the Delanceys or the Five Points Gang any less dangerous," David answered, pinching the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and his thumb.

"Oh, because bein' guarded by a newsboy a piece does," Genie responded sarcastically.

"You don't understand, Davey. You haven't been locked up in a house or tailed for the past couple of weeks. We're gettin' stir crazy," Al tried diplomatically, though Sarah knew she was itching to join the argument more actively.

"Maybe it's about time ya let 'em breathe a bit," Jack jumped in, though carefully. "I mean, it don't seem like Genie an' Sarah are in too much danger. And as long as we have someone go out with Al'n Race, I don't see what could go wrong."

"Someone could die."

"Don't be dramatic."

"He's not bein' dramatic," Race shot back. He had been silent up until this point. Sarah had been surprised that he hadn't spoken up sooner. Then again, she was also surprised he was siding with David on this one. "Have you even been paying attention? I paid the Five Points back every penny that I won fair an' square an' they beat me to a damn bloody pulp anyway. Then they went after Genie to find me again an' Al got caught up in the middle of it. This isn't some joke or a bunch of newsies pickin' a fight."

Jack opened his mouth to answer him, but Racetrack cut him off.

"An' I'm not saying we didn't have a few near death experiences as newsies. I think everyone in the room knows that for certain. My point, though, is that these guys wouldn't think twice about killing Genie or Sarah or Al. The Delanceys said as much when had them before."

"Oh, the Delanceys are full of hot air," Al answered.

Racetrack nearly turned the shade of Genie's hair. "Oh, really? Because, correct me if I'm wrong, but I seem to remember you an' Davy bein' hurt pretty bad by them a few years ago. If Jack hadn't been there-" He cut himself off abruptly, like he didn't want to finish that thought and Sarah couldn't help remembering how helpless and terrified she had been that day. She could still feel the bile in her throat and the tears that burned behind her eyes when she watched her brother spit blood or hiss through his teeth when he tried to sit afterward. She could still vividly see Al being yanked backward by her hair like some nightmarish vision she somehow couldn't manage to forget. "I've seen you near death more than once before. I sure as hell don't wanna see it again."

He stood up, forgetting his food, and stormed out the front door as Al shrunk down in her seat, clearly feeling terrible.

David let out a long sigh, "Look, I see where you guys are coming from. We're just worried. But if it's bothering you that much, I can talk to Runner about it. With Race and Jack here, we don't really need Listener out here anymore and maybe we could just make sure that someone comes and checks on the two of you once or twice a day instead of tailing you."

Everyone seemed to be happy with that arrangement. Sarah figured knowing that someone would drop by to make sure nothing happened to her would be somewhat reassuring. And if it would keep her brother from worrying, she could deal with it. When her brother had started calling the shots for everyone was beyond her, though.

"I'd better go talk to 'im," Genie said, standing. "After all, I started all this. Don't serve dessert without me."

"We don't have dessert," Sarah answered over her shoulder as the Irishwoman reached the door.

She looked almost disappointed. "Oh well. That figures."


	24. Ornery

_**Author's Note: I'm going to stop wasting this space apologizing when I miss weeks. I'm sounding like a broken record and I'm sure y'all really don't want to hear my excuses. So I'm just going to post on Wednesdays as often as I can and let it be. In other news, my brother and dad are both going to be in town this weekend. I cannot wait! It's going to be wonderful. :)**_

**Chapter 24- Ornery**

Genie stepped outside and let the cold night air hit her face. It was raining, but the landing above her kept her from getting wet. She had always been a fan of rain. The way it nourished the plants and cleaned away the filth on the streets. She always felt like it was nourishing her too. It soothed and calmed her, carrying away all those things that troubled her and leaving behind that sweet petrichor, the smell after the rain.

She found Racetrack sitting a few feet away, turning an unlit cigar over in his hand as he watched the rain fall. She couldn't help the pang of sadness that wrenched her heart. She hated seeing him so downcast. Racetrack generally had two emotions: happy and serious. Sad wasn't usually in the cards, at least not when she saw him. He hadn't been himself lately. He had lost control of the situation and it made him helpless. Clearly that wasn't a feeling that sat well with him.

She stepped over toward him, trying to think of something to say, some way to convince him to get rid of that sulky frown of his. However, it was Racetrack that ended up speaking first.

"I should've known they'd appoint you to cheer me up," he grumbled, still toying with the cigar. He didn't look up at her. Instead, he kept his gaze fixed on the rain before him.

It irritated Genie, but she tried not to show it. "I wasn't appointed. I volunteered." Moving over next to him, she slid down the wall until she was sitting, her right leg rested gently against his and he looked over at her as she gently plucked the cigar from his hand. Pulling out a small knife, the one she often carried in case she needed something to help her cut a few flowers, she sliced off the rounded end with ease. She was practiced enough at the task that she didn't even need to look for the indentation. It had been one of the skills that Racetrack had first admired about her.

She fished his lighter out of his jacket pocket (he always kept it in its left one) and slipped the cigar between her own lips before lighting it. It took a few puffs before it caught fully, but when she had it going she smiled to herself. Racetrack was still watching her and she rolled her eyes as she handed it to him. "Hope you weren't savin' that for sommat."

He took a puff himself and soon after released two perfect smoke rings. He had long ago promised to show her how to do it one day and she had laughed it away. Perhaps it was time to cash in on the deal. After all, it would certainly make him a little less unhappy if he had the chance to see her make ridiculous faces as she tried to accomplish a near impossible task.

"Alright, show me," she said with an air of resignation. Racetrack immediately broke out into a grin and ended up choking on the cigar smoke that had still been sitting in his mouth.

Genie rolled her eyes, but couldn't help chuckling at his misfortune.

"All you have to do," Racetrack explained, his voice still deep and sounding strained after his little coughing fit, "Is put your tongue in the middle of your tongue _'ike thith,_" he stuck his tongue out oddly, "And push the smoke to the front of your mouth where it'll get under your tongue some and then breath it out in little puffs. It takes lotsa practice, but you can do it. Here, try."

Genie took a deep, smoky breath and did her best to follow Racetrack's instructions. Immediately, he burst out laughing. She tried to keep herself from laughing as well, but couldn't control it, and ended up inhaling the smoke, causing her to choke on it. It had been a long time since she'd managed to choke on cigar smoke. She considered herself somewhat of an expert on the art of smoking even if she wasn't as adept at the tricks that came along with it. After all, those were only for those who wanted to show off . . . like Racetrack. She practically threw the cigar at him as the sudden inability to get even a bit of air in her lungs made her begin hacking like a dying man. Tears slid down her face as she slammed the heel of her hand against her chest.

Racetrack's laughter stopped long enough for him to make sure she was okay, though she could still tell he was struggling to keep the chuckles in. It took a minute, but she finally managed to cough up enough smoke to give her a chance to take a deep breath. Slowly, she managed to go from feeling like she was about to cough up her lungs to a few throat-clearing coughs. That was enough smoking for today.

She pressed her hand against her sternum, wishing the raw feeling in her chest would dissipate.

"Where did you learn to smoke anyways?" Racetrack asked, tapping the unlit end of the cigar so that some of the ash would fall beside him.

"Where does anyone learn to smoke? I just did."

"Naw, but you're real good at it. Most goils aren't." He paused. "Lemme guess, your daddy taught ya."

Genie fidgeted uncomfortably. "Yeah, I guess he did." None of her friends, with Al as the single exception, knew anything about her life before she came to America. She had made it clear from the beginning that she wasn't the divulging type and she didn't need to spread her story all over town. It wasn't that she was ashamed or that there was anything major like a previous marriage or a degenerate lifestyle that she was hiding. She just didn't like to talk about it. Life had been rough in Ireland and the past was the past.

That was one of the things she had respected most about her friends upon first being introduced to them. If you didn't want to talk about something, they immediately backed off. They didn't press for more information or needle you for more details. No, they left you alone. They backed up and let you keep what you needed to yourself until you were ready to share . . . if you were ever ready to share. All newsies had secrets, after all. Not all of them were meant to be told.

The way she saw it, friendships were fickle. The bonds between her friends were immovable. They were family. They had each shed blood for the other and fought tooth and nail to maintain the safety of that family. She was a newcomer and replaceable. She wanted to believe that she would be friends with them forever, but she couldn't be sure of that just yet. Perhaps in a few more years.

"It was probably the last thing he taught me," Genie added, deciding that Racetrack had clearly proved his steadfastness just as surely as Al had. She wasn't about to start divulging all of her secrets, but he did deserve to know more about her. And she wanted him to understand her a little better- see where she was coming from.

Racetrack gave her a sideways glance. "Oh, did he die?"

"No," Genie answered. "Though, I sometimes wished he had. He ran off on us when I was nine. Left my Ma and I to figure things out on our own an' provide for ourselves." She picked at the fabric of her skirt, feeling the familiar mixture of bitterness and longing that often accompanied the thought of her father. She hated him for leaving her, but she mostly hated herself for still wanting him back.

"Bastard," Racetrack said under his breath.

"Yeah, he was." He had left them high and dry for his first love: gambling. It had always been the most important thing to him; the one thing that mattered above all else. He may have been a good father up until then, when he was home, but his absence scarred her far worse than anything else he could have done.

She and her mother learned to pull through, though. His absence may have nearly killed them, but it also provided them with the strength, the drive, to move forward and never back down. She learned that no one would protect her the way she could protect herself. She learned that she had to trust herself because only she was worth of that trust.

That part of her history was the whole reason she had resisted Racetrack so avidly from the get-go. From the start, she had kept him at arms-length, only accepting his help because she had no other alternative. He had reminded her all too vividly of her father. She chose not to tell her friend this particular detail. It would only make him feel worse.

But then, he had somehow managed to prove time and time again that he wasn't her father. She would never believe that Racetrack would leave in the same way her father did. Race was too steadfast for that. Nothing could truly tear him away from the people he loved because that was what mattered most to him. His family was his first love, not gambling.

No, he was more likely to get_ killed_ over gambling . . . as his latest fiasco seemed to prove.

Speaking of his latest fiasco: "I didn't come out 'ere to discuss my family history."

He gave her a sideways glance. "I've calmed down, if that's what you're wondering." He let out a long, painful sigh. "I just- if one of you were to get hurt . . . if I _lost_ any of you . . . it would be the death o' me. I would blame myself for the rest of my life. I wouldn't evah recover." He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. Even then, he looked like he was grimacing.

Genie reached over and took his free hand in her own, offering him what little comfort she had. "We'll be fine. We'll get through this."

"You can't make that promise," he answered sternly without so much as opening his eyes, though she had noticed his eyebrows shoot up for a split second when she had reached for his hand.

"I just did." Genie breathed in deeply through her nose. "It wouldn't be your fault, ya know, even if something was to happen."

"Yes it would," he answered with conviction, hardly letting her finish the sentence.

"No, it wouldn't. Ya can't take the blame just because this gang picked you as a target. I'll admit gambling's a stupid pastime and it was a bloody stupid move to go up against this Paul Kelly, but you couldn't have known the outcome."

"My ignorance doesn't make me innocent. My ignorance could get you killed."

"Their guns an' their greed an' their hate could get me killed. You can't make their actions your responsibility now just because you happened to set them off. You didn't rile them up on purpose. You played a game with them an' the bastards decided to make an example of ya." Genie squeezed the hand she still held. "That means you're not the one to carry the blame."

Racetrack twisted his head toward her, his newly blonde hair brushing against the wall as he did. He gave her a long, probing look. "That's not what you said before," he said quietly.

Genie instantly hated herself. Guilt twisted up in her stomach, threatening to make her ill. She should have known better than to let her mouth run away with her then. She should have known it would impact him hardest to hear her blame him for everything that had happened.

"I was wrong. I was angry an' I was afraid an' I was very, very wrong." She growled under her breath. "Ya have to understand: I was terrified. I'm not used to these sorts of things happenin' to me. I've never been in a fight or had an enemy that did anything more'n spread gossip about me. Suddenly, I've got two gun-toting men in my shop threatenin' to kill me if I don't tell them where you are an' I'm terrified that you're face-down in an alleyway somewhere an' I just haven't heard about it yet. An' to top it all off, I'm saved by a pregnant woman wielding a broom an' tellin' 'em a good lie about her kin? It was a hell of a lot for me to handle in one day."

Racetrack's features softened and he pulled his hand from hers before hesitantly wrapping it around her shoulders. When she didn't protest, he pulled her a bit closer to himself as if he were trying to ward away the fear that had managed to creep into her heart. The strange thing was that it seemed to work.

They sat like that for a while, with her leaning against his side and his arm still around her. She didn't dare lean her head on his shoulder, though she was sorely tempted to. She didn't want to give him the wrong idea. This wasn't some little romantic moment. This was two friends facing the deeply cruel world together, offering each other comfort where it was needed.

Finally, she let out a little sigh and poked him in the side as she sat up, pulling away from him. His arm dropped and she immediately missed its warmth. She added one final comment to the conversation they had been having: "It's not your fault. I was wrong to say it was." She gave him a bit of a mischievous smile and poked him in the side again. "But I wish you hadn't dragged me into it talking about me so much. You need to learn to keep your mouth shut."

"I can't help it," he answered as he stood and helped her to his feet, "I'm crazy about you." He said it so fervently, with so much truth in his eyes, that she physically felt pain shoot through her chest.

She sniffed and looked away, intent on diverting him from this train of thought. "Runner says you think I'm ornery," she pointed out, moving away from him so that she could catch a few raindrops in her hand.

She saw him flush out of the corner of her eye. "It's not an insult," he answered carefully. "In my book, ornery is a good thing."

"Oh, is it now?" She laughed, letting the water drip through her fingers. "That explains a lot."


	25. Distant

_**Author's Note: New chapter, you guys! Aren't y'all proud of me? I have to admit, with the week I've been having, I'm surprised I even remembered today was a Wednesday. I hate growing up, guys. And I hate dealing with drama. And I hate working 13 hour shifts with no breaks. -_- *shrugs* Life sucks sometimes. Sorry, I'm not in the greatest of moods. But hopefully you are, because I finally updated! *does happy dance* I'll just be over here, throwing back some whiskey and glaring at the wall.**_

**Chapter 25- Distant**

_You make your way in  
__I resist you just like this  
__You can't tell me to feel  
__Truth never set me free  
__So I did it myself_

_~Careful: Paramore~_

Jenna thanked her lucky stars that Les was still reasonable, though particularly rash. She had somehow managed to convince him that taking her to see Listener wasn't as fabulous an idea as he had originally thought. Admittedly, she did kind of miss her friend, but she was pushing it with Les knowing her whereabouts. She didn't need everyone to know where she was right now.

Even still, Les's claim that she needed to talk to someone, needed to open up, kept her awake half of the night. She just couldn't wrap her mind around it.

Of course she wanted to tell someone everything that was in her heart. Of course she wanted to have the kind of confidant that Les had described, but the thought terrified her to the very core of her being. How could she explain what she had been through. How could she put words to the things she had dealt with and done. Who would care about her if they knew who she really was? Who would want her then?

She didn't want to lay her heart on the table or bare herself to anyone. That would make her vulnerable. Vulnerability was basically handing someone a knife and inviting them to take a shot at you. Jenna was smarter than that. Nine times out of ten, others don't have your best interests at heart. The rest of the time they manage to hurt you anyways.

The next morning, she woke up with a headache from having clenched her teeth so hard all night. She had slept underneath Les's bed and waited for him to give her the okay to come out before she rolled out from underneath it.

"Sarah went to the butcher's to get some food for dinner. Apparently everyone's comin' over tonight." Les was sitting on Sarah's bed and pulling on his boots.

"Everyone?" she questioned, stretching while simultaneously trying to get as much dust off of her as possible. Her spot under the bed had been cramped and dusty, but warm and safe, and it was the latter that was most important.

"Ya know, Al, David, Jack, Lily, an' Collin. Everybody."

Jenna nodded slowly. "Uh huh," she answered as she headed out the room and headed to the washroom, hoping to make herself look semi-presentable. She had no idea who those other people were, but if Al and David were coming over, she needed to be far away from the apartment tonight. She wouldn't be allowed to quench her curiosity by peering in on them. She would just have to milk the details out of Les somehow. She couldn't help hoping they were doing alright. She assumed those gang members hadn't managed to find them yet or Les would have told her by now.

When she finally came back out of the washroom, Les was chewing on an apple and looking a little irritated. "Took you long enough."

"You gotta be somewhere?" she asked. She knew school didn't start for at least another hour, so she couldn't see why he had a problem with the time it took her to freshen up.

"It's Saturday, Freckles. I got papes to sell. You're gonna come with me."

"What? No. I-I can't," she sputtered.

Les rolled his eyes. "Yes, ya can. I'll keep ya outta sight o' the others. You'll come with me to sell. Shove your 'air up in this cap an' you can wear my old shirt with your skirt so you don't look like yourself."

"You said you were gonna help me find a job."

"An' hasn't that been what I've been skippin' school to do? We can take a break for one day. I gotta keep _my _job."

"You can't get fired from being a newsie," Jenna answered obstinately.

Jenna didn't know how he did it, but he managed to persuade her and soon enough she was heading out with him pulling her along as usual. She hid about a block away and waited patiently as Les purchased his papers. After all, she didn't have much of a choice now that she had been dragged all the way out to the Distribution Center. If she tried to go back now, she would more than likely get herself lost, or worse, run into another newsboy.

Instead, she picked at her nails until he returned.

"Took you long enough," she accused. "What if I had gotten jumped?"

"Too many newsies around. You'd have to be an idiot to jump a newsie while so many of 'em are nearby."

She gave him a dark look, unable to argue with his logic there. He responded with a roll of his eyes. She resented it when he made her feel like she was being dramatic. Everyone knew that he was the resident drama queen.

It didn't take long for them to reach Les's selling spot. He liked to sell near Medda's place, he had told her, because people were always coming out of there feeling high as a kite, and feeling good is almost the same as feeling generous. He taught her how to sell papers, explaining that you couldn't just announce headlines, you had to make them better than they really were-improve the truth a little. No one wanted to read about studies showing that large amounts of alcohol increase violence. They'd be more likely to buy a paper if you took that little tidbit at the end of the article about the group of women who wanted alcohol to be banned altogether and shout "Government considers banning alcohol!"

"That's not the best example," he admitted, "Seeing as lots of folks are thinking that's a good idea now and think it might actually happen, but you get the gist of it. You gotta make it better than the headline. If you make what ya say more sensational, more folks're gonna want to see what the hell you're talking about."

"That's why people don't like newsies," Jenna commented, shifting her weight so she could comfortably carry the heavy stack of papers he had handed her.

"No, they don't like us because we're poor and smelly and we like to fight. And because nobody likes the person they have to hand their money over to; it's a fact. People like to hold onto their cash as long as they possibly can."

He went on to explain that every newsie also has a shtick or two: some way that they can con people out of their money a bit more effectively. Sometimes it is something legitimate that they played up, like a guy he called Crutchy who was crippled and used that so people would take pity on him and give him more money. He explained that girls were tricky in these circumstances. People tend to be torn between wanting to help a poor girl who had to resort to boy's work and scorning her for overstepping her gender's bounds.

"Al could tell ya more about that, seein' as she had to deal with it before girls being newsies was so common," Les shrugged. "But you're not talking to her."

Jenna rolled her eyes and set to work selling papers. It wasn't too hard, but it wasn't an easy task either. After the morning rush from those people who normally buy papers from Les (half of whom wanted to hear all about his new selling partner), it was a matter of convincing people that today was the day they needed to hear their morning news immediately, instead of waiting to hear it relayed by a coworker or friend. Les was clearly a seasoned salesman on this front and sold his half of the stack in record time and more than half of her stack not long after that.

They spent most of the time between selling papers talking about this headline or that. At one point, she asked about whether Al's brother had ever come in and Les explained that Jack had indeed come in a few days ago and was already getting back in the groove of things. Jenna asked if everyone liked his wife and Les started laughing. He explained that the surprise he had written to Al about hadn't actually been a wife, but two children that he had adopted from an orphan train.

"Besides," he added. "He passed up his one shot at the only decent girl who would have him." There was a touch of bitterness in his voice and Jenna recalled that his sister had been Jack's girl before he left for Santa Fe. She must be the one he's referring to. She figured she ought to leave that one alone and didn't comment further.

She was about to ask more about the kids when she heard a familiar voice call out Les's name. Both Jenna and Les froze for half a second before he was pushing her into the nearest alleyway. "You don't want anyone else to find out about you; you hide right here an' keep outta sight. I'll get rid of 'im."

He rushed back onto the street and started rummaging through his papers just as Listener came around the corner. Jenna felt her stomach leap as she laid eyes on him. She hadn't realized how much she missed seeing his face until she laid eyes on him and suddenly she had the urge to step out from her hiding spot just so she could talk to him again. She pulled herself back a little farther. She didn't need to reveal herself to anyone else. That would only make things worse when she left again. She had been thinking lately of making the trek to Chicago and starting a new life there. Anyway, he would probably be angry with her if he saw her, so it would be better to stay hidden.

"Where've you been, man? I hardly see you around the Lodge anymore."

Les shrugged, doing his best to look casual. "Been busy."

"With what?" Listener asked skeptically. "School's never been rough for ya. It's like ya vanished all of a sudden."

"It's not a big deal. Just had some extra homework and some extra chores to get done 'round the house."

Listener looked impatient. "We can't afford to get distracted right now, Les. You know that. We've got too much goin' on with Brooklyn to deal with you suddenly getting too busy for us."

"My head's in the game, Listener," Les answered impatiently, leaning from one foot to the other. "I ain't slackin', I've just got a lot on my plate. But I'm still here, aren't I? I haven't backed out."

"Yeah, you're right," Listener conceded. His eyes scanned the surrounding area. "Just try to find more time for us an' the boys. We need it right now. And watch out for Brooklyn, they-" He sucked in a breath and it took Jenna a moment to realize he'd spotted her. They locked eyes for a few seconds, Jenna frozen in her tracks, before she turned around and took off.

"Jenna, wait!" Listener yelled at her back.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

That single word pounded through her head to the rhythm of her feet as her shoes slapped against the concrete. She skidded on discarded trash and her arms spun as she quickly rounded a corner, but she managed to stay on her feet. She realized she wasn't carrying the remainder of her papers anymore and hoped she hadn't destroyed them all in dropping them. What mattered right now was getting away, though, not Les's newspapers.

"Listener! Stop! She doesn't want . . ." Les' voice sounded farther away.

She could still hear Listener's heavier steps behind her that ceased as a loud curse flew from his throat, followed by the sound of his body hitting the ground pretty hard. She slowed to a stop and turned around to see what had happened. She was greeted with the sight of him lying face-first on the concrete. The moment she caught sight of blood, she was running toward him, instead of away.

"Oh my god! Are you okay?" her voice seemed to echo in the empty alleyway. She dropped to her knees beside him as he started to push himself up.

She cringed when she saw his split lip. Blood ran down his face and leaked from his hands where he'd tried to catch himself.

"Are you okay? Did you trip on something?" She looked toward his ankles as if she could see if he had managed to hurt them in the fall as well. Perhaps he had twisted one and that was the cause. "Does anything else hurt? Oh, I-"

Anything else she was going to say was silenced as Listener lunged forward and wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace. Jenna froze, deeply confused and taken off-guard. What the hell was he doing? After a few seconds, he pushed back and held her by the shoulders. "Are you okay? Where have you been? I was so worried."

She gave him another confused look and he coughed, amending his former statement. "_We_ were so worried."

Jenna felt a blush creeping across her cheeks, but was distracted when Les came sauntering around the corner, looking like he wasn't sure what to expect.

"Les, it's Jenna!" Listener pointed out excitedly as he brought himself to his feet. He pressed his thumb to the wound on his lower lip in an attempt to stop the flow of blood.

"I'm aware," Les answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I told you not to chase her."

Jenna stood and dusted the dirt off the lower half of her skirt.

Listener's brows furrowed. "But it's . . . you _knew_?" Jenna almost cringed at the hurt in his expression. Les actually flinched.

"Not for long. Just a couple o' days." He looked down and scuffed his toe in the dirt. Jenna looked between them, surprised at both of their reactions. She had never seen Les back down from someone's anger, even when he was in the wrong. And Listener seemed angrier than the situation justified; she had never seen him angry at anyone other than that boy from Brooklyn that had accosted her before she left Al's home.

"Why didn't you _say_ anything?"

Les glanced at her and then his eyes went back to Listener. "It never came up, I guess." Jenna gave him a confused look and Les shrugged in response to it. Listener's face reddened and she realized he was giving her the opportunity to lay the blame for all the secrecy on him. She nearly took a step back when she connected the dots. Les was willing to throw himself under the bus for her sake. The very idea astounded her.

It took her a second to gain the ability to speak again. Listener looked like he was trying to pick and choose the words that would best hurt his friend, so she figured it was best that she speak up before he found all of those unkind words. "I asked him not to." Listener snapped his mouth shut and turned his gaze on her, now looking more confused than angry. The red started to drain from his face, but the hurt didn't.

"I didn't want anyone to know where I was. I didn't want Les to know either. That was an accident." Jenna fidgeted with a lock of loose hair that hung beside her temple. "He found me by accident an' then I was having so much trouble finding food . . . I needed help."

The fight seemed to drain out of Listener and now it was Jenna who was confused. "Why aren't you angry with me then?" she asked before she could think better of it.

Listener shrugged helplessly. "It's one thing if Les was keeping you from me. It's another if you didn't want me around."

A stab of guilt ate through her gut. He looked like a deflated balloon, dejected and upset.

Les spoke up, "Listener, I don't think-"

But Listener held up a hand and Les fell silent. "No, no, it's fine. I understand. I guess- I'll just be going now."

He turned to walk away, but Jenna couldn't take it anymore.

"No, stop! I'm sorry." She closed the distance between them and grabbed his arm before he could get any further. She gave him a meaningful look. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Then how did you mean it?" He didn't say it angrily, but like he genuinely wanted the truth, and that only made her feel worse. He eyed her like he wasn't really sure what to expect. Jenna looked to Les, but he had his head down as if he too was waiting for an answer, or maybe he felt like he was intruding on a private conversation and was trying to let them alone without actually leaving. Either way, he was no help.

She bit her lower lip before continuing hesitantly, "I don't know. I'm just-" she fought to find the words that would accurately portray what she was trying to say. She wanted to tell him that it wasn't him she was pushing away; that she wasn't rejecting him. She wanted to explain that she was running away from herself; that she wasn't trying to hurt him or anyone else. She had left because she wanted to spare them her presence. She didn't think she could ever be what they expected of her so she would spare them the disappointment.

She had left because she had felt the carefully built-up walls around her heard beginning to melt away and that terrified her. Those walls were her protection, the only thing keeping the daggers poised around it from sinking in and killing her. She had meticulously built up those walls for a reason and she didn't plan on letting anything through them, good or bad. Because the bad always found its way in with the good and she didn't have the strength to keep fighting it off anymore.

Yet even as she stood in that back alleyway with the two boys that she had gotten to know over the past few weeks hanging on her every word, she could feel some of the stones chipping and giving way. No matter how much she wanted to run away and regroup, it was the pained look in Listener's eyes that kept her rooted to the spot. How could she cause him the same pain she was trying to so avidly avoid? She owed him an explanation.

"I-I'm scared, okay? I don't _know_ what I'm doing anymore." She ducked her head and dropped Listener's arm. "I ran away. I ran because I was getting too close to everyone and I can't do that. I just can't."

She heard Listener step closer and he tapped the bottom of her chin lightly, prompting her to lift her chin. When she looked up, she saw that the hurt in his eyes was replaced with something else: concern, compassion."Why?"

"It hurts too much," she answered in a quiet voice. "I'm so tired of being hurt."


	26. Bastard

_**Author's Note: Whew. It's been a pretty good week so far, though I've had my fair share of work to get done. I've been consistently working 40 hours each week and I've just launched my new book review blog and have been working on moving things over from the old one. (Btw, I'm doing a giveaway on the site for two awesome books, so you should check it out. The link is on my profile.)  
These next few weeks promise to be good for me. My dad comes in for a visit this weekend, the next weekend I'm going to Houston for Teen Book Con (Will any of y'all be there?), and the weekend after that is my 21st birthday! *does happy dance***_

**Chapter 26- Bastard**

_"Darling, don't give me shit  
__'Cause I know that you're full of it.  
__You're full of shit.  
__You're full of shit."  
__~Shit Song: Kate Nash~_

Al was practically bouncing on her toes as she walked through the street with the others. She had joked that they looked like a ragtag (and particularly paranoid) gang as the six of them made their way down the street. David's arm was wrapped tightly around her waist; the two of them taking the rear while the others took point. Lily and Collin held hands with each other and the adult on either side of them. Even though she was excited to be out of her home and breathing in the fresh air, she kept a wary eye out for any sign of danger, just as her companions did. Lily and Collin seemed to be able to sense the anxiety of the adults that surrounded them. They were nearly completely silent as they took the familiar path to the Jacobs home. It reminded Al of how quiet they had been when they first showed up at her home. It had taken them a while to get comfortable, but now it seemed unnatural that one of them wasn't squealing or telling some wild story that they had pieced together from real life and the bedtime stories Racetrack gave them nearly every night.

"Aren't you glad to see your parents?" she prompted her husband as he glanced behind them for the third time in under a minute. She playfully poked him in the side and said in a whisper, "Acting suspicious draws more attention to yourself than it conceals you."

"I'd rather be obvious and catch the sneak attack than sneaky and dead," David answered dryly. "And of course I'm glad to see them."

Al saw Jack give Lily's hand a squeeze and she pressed herself closer to him.

It didn't take long for them to reach the Jacobs apartment. They took the stairs up to their floor and almost as soon as David touched the door, it flew open and let out an over-excited Esther Jacobs. She flew out the door and showered everyone with a flurry of kisses. Collin and Lily immediately scrambled behind Jack, and Esther nearly died of excitement when she laid eyes on them.

"Are these the little darlings you brought with you, Jack?" she asked, her eyes shining. "Oh you two are simply beautiful." She beamed and then seemed to recover her manners, graciously inviting the group into her home. They all filed in and Collin stayed glued to the back of Jack's legs, but Lily seemed to gain a little more courage. She still held tightly to Jack's hand as she stepped out from behind him.

"Are you our grandmother?" she asked tentatively.

"Not exactly-" Racetrack started to say, clearly ready to explain that she was technically his great aunt, but Esther cut him off.

"Oh hush, boy," she snapped at him. She turned back to Lily. "Of course I am," she answered sweetly. Lily smiled and retreated back behind her Papa. The moment the girl stopped looking, Esther shot Race a dirty look to which he responded by throwing both hands up in the air, palms forward, in the universal sign of surrender.

Just then, Mayer entered the room and immediately made his way over to his son and daughter-in-law. He slapped his son on the back before moving to Al and grabbing her face, laughing about how good it was to see the mother of his grandchild. He planted a strong kiss on her forehead.

Al laughed, "It hasn't been that long, Meyer."

"Nonsense. It's always good to see my girl." He moved on to Jack while the others took their seats in the living room. Esther managed to coax the children into following her into the kitchen to help her set the table and such, but only once she promised they would get a treat for being her little helpers. Once that offer was out on the table, the two were in the kitchen like a shot.

It was about at that moment that Sarah came in, still pinning her hair up. "Sorry," she said around a mouthful of pins. "Lost track of time." It was hardly recognizable as English, but Al was quite adept at understanding her friend when her mouth was full of hairpins. Sarah turned to pin her hair up in a nearby mirror while Meyer questioned David on his work.

It was at that point that the baby started to kick and Al reached for her brother. He had been trying his best to feel the baby kick the last week or so, but hadn't quite managed it just yet. It seemed the baby always stopped at just the moment he reached her. Jack didn't respond to her touch and she went to nudge him harder when she saw what was occupying his full attention. He was entirely riveted on Sarah.

Al didn't know whether to be ecstatic over what she as seeing or to start preparing for the apocalypse.

She grabbed Jack's hand and laid it on her belly. One kick to his palm had Jack's focus redirected. He turned and sucked in a breath.

"He's so strong," he said breathlessly.

"Maybe she," David corrected. He desperately wanted a little girl.

Jack ignored him. "Oh, there he goes again!" He looked up at Al and the grin on his face warmed her to the core. Her brother's approval was something she prized most dearly and seeing him practically fall apart over the baby in her womb was enough to bring her to tears. She blinked back those tears and cleared her throat, hoping no one noticed her sudden emotion.

David's hand found hers and gave it a quick squeeze. He _would_ notice. She intertwined her fingers with his and squeezed back.

"How long is it now?" Meyer asked excitedly.

Al grinned. She would be hard pressed to believe that Meyer didn't already know the answer to that. David's parents were so eager to meet their very first grandchild that she wouldn't be surprised if they had a countdown on their calendar. She humored him anyway, "Genie says it could be any day now, but she thinks next week is most likely."

"Oh, I can't wait," Sarah said as she seated herself near her father, intentionally choosing the spot furthest from Jack.

"Have you come to a decision on a name yet?" Meyer questioned. "Names are very important, you know. They can define a person."

"Unless they chose a different name," Jack pointed out with a smirk. "Like most of us have."

Meyer smiled and nodded. "While that may be true, your name can still define you. What you speak over another person can affect them for the rest of their life. A name is no different."

"We still can't agree on any names," David answered his father's original question. The couple had heard Meyer's speech on the importance of choosing the perfect name more times than they could count. Al knew it particularly irked David and wasn't surprised that he was quick to interrupt his father with the answer. If they let him, Meyer would be more than willing to lecture straight through dessert. The older man meant well, but he certainly did have a love for making his voice heard.

Perhaps that's why he and Jack got on so well. After all, they shared a similar passion there.

"I like the name Peter for a boy, you know, as in Peter Pan. I always did love that story. David prefers the name William, but I think it sounds stiff and boring."

"What about girl names?" Meyer questioned.

"David likes Melissa, wants to name her after me." Al was more than certain her tone and expression said exactly what she thought of that idea. "I can't think of one."

"I like Melissa," Jack pointed out, giving her a solid poke in the side.

"Well you're not naming my baby."

"What about Abigail, dear?" Esther asked as she entered the room, still wiping her hands on the front of her apron. "She was King David's first wife and renowned for her wisdom."

"I'm not naming my child after my namesake's first wife," David said with a grimace.

"I have to second my husband on that one," Al answered with a bit of a laugh. "Though it is quite a lovely name."

Esther gave a shrug. "Either way, dinner is ready."

They all gathered around the table. It was a bit of a tight squeeze with all of them there, but it was a pleasant discomfort. Al couldn't help but enjoy the closeness of her family, even if it was a bit cramped.

"Where's Les?" David asked as they all settled in. It required a bit of shuffling to get everyone in their designated places, but there was still an empty seat, even with all nine of them surrounding the small table.

"He's supposed to be here," Meyer said, checking his watch. "Probably running a bit late."

"It's not like him to miss out on food," Al quipped.

"Oh, he's probably still with those newsie boys. He's hardly ever at home anymore."

"It's a lot of work, running a group as rowdy as that," Racetrack pointed out from where he was situated between Sarah and the empty seat. "Even if you're not the one in charge."

"Takes an army," Jack agreed.

"Takes half the group," David added.

"Well enough newsboy talk. Let's have your father say the blessing and we can start eating, with or without Les."

Of course, it was at that moment that the aforementioned youngest Jacobs sibling came crashing through the door. "I'm here! Don't start without me!" He practically yelled as he tripped over his own feet in his rush to get to the table as quickly as possible.

"Whoa, Les, calm it down," Jack laughed as he threw out his arm just in time to keep the boy from slamming right into Lily's chair. "We haven't started just yet. There's no rush."

He all but dropped into the chair between Jack and Race. The blessing was said and the food passed around just then, so the first few minutes of the meal were passed in silence. Everyone seemed to be more than eager to fill their stomachs, but Les seemed particularly ravenous and it didn't go unnoticed when he pulled a fourth roll from the basket.

"You seem particularly famished today, Les," Sarah commented with a bit a smile.

"It's been a long day."

"Oh?" his mother asked as she set down the glass she had just taken a sip from. "What happened?"

"Nothing in particular," he answered with a bit of a shrug. "It was just long."

It was kind of sad how oblivious Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs were, Al thought, not for the first time. It was long ago that they all had decided that they just couldn't handle what went on in the lives of their children and the newsies. It was better for everyone if they were left in the dark on most things unless it was absolutely necessary that it be otherwise. That way, Esther wouldn't worry so much and Meyer wouldn't go on one of his long rants about how he hadn't raised his children to court danger so often and that they ought to avoid it much more avidly.

It had become quite clear that they would never be able to convince David's parents that they could handle themselves and that they were willing to take the consequences if something proved otherwise.

For this reason, they did their best to hide as much as they could from Esther and Meyer. Now that Les was the only newsboy in the group, he was the one who ended up getting hurt most often- at least that was how it had been before this whole fiasco with Racetrack had begun. He had gotten into the habit of going to Al and David's apartment first after he had gotten in a fight. That way she could tend to his wounds and decide whether or not he was passable to go home and face his parents. If not, he would stay the night with his brother and sister-in-law. Of course, Sarah also tended to him, but usually those were ones he was certain he could sneak past his parents in the first place.

Either way, their main goal was to never give their parents quite the scare they had received the last time David had come home with a knife wound in his shoulder and bruises littering his face and arms. That had terrified them out of their wits. She could only imagine what they would have done if they had seen her in the aftermath of that fight . . . or either of them immediately after they had been jumped by Quick Fist's goons earlier that year. They probably wouldn't have ever let even Al out of their sight after that.

Al tried to make eye contact with her younger brother-in-law, intending to make a face at him and maybe even silently question whether it was Brooklyn giving him trouble. However, he didn't look up at her, even when she coughed discreetly, and seemed to be avoiding eye contact with her too. After a few moments of concern, she chastised herself internally. After all, he was probably just tired and she was making up the whole avoidance bit.

On the other hand, she didn't have to make up the fact that Jack and Sarah were avidly avoiding each other's eyes. Or, more accurately, Sarah was avoiding eye contact while Jack watched her intently, only abruptly turning his head every time she glanced his way.

Things went on this way through most of the meal. Meyer talked about his plans for retiring while Esther asked questions about David's job and Al's baby. It wasn't until Jack was in the middle of explaining everything he'd had to do to go from starting off as a ranch hand to running one that the fight broke out.

"-An' he hated me. I could never figure out why. I tried my hardest and worked my ass off -'scuse me, Mrs. Jacobs- an' he still did everything he could to get me in trouble. But when he left, I got his job, 'cause-"

Sarah's chair screeched loudly and startled nearly everyone at the table as she stood abruptly. "What do you think?" she said in a shrill, somewhat strained voice. "Time for dessert, don't ya think, Papa?"

"Sarah, don't be rude," Esther said in a hushed tone, though everyone could still hear her. "Jack was in the middle of-"

"Oh yes," she cut her mother off. "Let's all wait for _Jack_ to get finished. Let's just put everything in our lives on hold for this one _cowboy_ an' hope he follows through. Hope it's not a waste of time. After all, Jack's strong suit isn't exactly following through."

With that, she spun on her heel and stomped out of the room, heading down the hall. A moment later, the window slammed shut and it was more than clear that she had escaped to the roof.

"If you'll excuse me . . ." Jack pushed his plate away and stood, immediately following Sarah out the window.

Al and David shared a look. There was no telling where this would go. Their siblings were each forces to be reckoned with . . . and Sarah wasn't the type to back down any longer. She had let Jack walk all over her once-she had been in love and eager to please- but now she was angry and ready to butt heads. She wouldn't let him leave here unscathed a second time.

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," Meyer quoted the familiar phrase with a bit of a chortle.

* * *

In her attempt to get away from everyone and reach the roof as quickly as possible, Sarah had managed to trip up over the barrier between the fire escape and the floor of the roof, causing her to land hard on her knees and graze the skin on her hands. It didn't do much damage at all, but it was enough to start the waterworks. It only took seconds for the sobbing to start. She might have stayed like that, crying on the ground, if she hadn't heard Jack call out as he neared the top of the fire escape.

"Sarah?"

She jumped to her feet and tried to stop crying, but there wasn't much to be done about the tears. They just kept coming. She couldn't make it stop.

"Go away, Jack!"

She retreated to the far end of the building and wiped at her face with the back of her hands, cursing herself for being unable to stop her crying- cursing Jack for following her up there.

The crunch of his footsteps on the gravelly flooring of the roof told her he wasn't obeying her instructions. In that moment, all she wanted to do was push him off the roof and be rid of him for good. He stepped hesitantly and she was glad of it. He was wary of her in that moment and she wanted it to last. She wanted him to keep his distance, to know just how much she wanted him to stay away from her.

"Sarah, I know we've had some problems in the past, but I was kinda hopin' this time we could have a fresh start. Ya know, get to know each other all over again an' maybe this time things wouldn't go so wrong."

Sarah stayed silent, still madly wiping at her tears and doing her best to keep from sniffling. There wasn't even the slightest chance that he hadn't noticed her tears, but at least he hadn't commented on them yet.

"C'mon Sarah, at least look at me. At least let me see your face."

She turned around and let all of the fury and all of anger she'd tried to keep hidden these last few years show on her face. She was almost pleased when she saw Jack flinch as he searched her eyes. He took a hesitant step forward and then another, as if he were testing the waters, unsure of how close he would be able to get without having her lash out at him.

"When did we get like this?" he asked quietly.

Sarah let out a strangled laugh. "When did we get like this?! How you even have the nerve to ask that question, I have no idea." She threw her hands up in the air and added, "Oh yeah, because you're an _asshole_!"

She turned away and Jack grabbed her arm.

"Sarah-"

She hissed through clenched teeth. "Don't. Touch. Me."

Jack pulled away as if his hand had been burnt. "What the hell is going on with you?"

"Of course! How could I have forgotten? Jack Kelly can't see far enough past his own nose to notice when he hurts other people!" She kept her back turned to him as she mocked. "After all, the whole world revolves around him. The idiot breaks my _fucking_ heart and my parents all but fall at his feet when he walks in the door."

"I broke your heart?" Jack questions quietly, like the possibility had never occurred to him.

The statement only proved to make Sarah angrier. She spun around, spitting venom with her eyes as well as her words. "Don't flatter yourself. It wasn't hard to do then. It's much more difficult now."

"I never meant to-"

"I don't give a damn what you _meant_! Don't you get that? We're done. I'd be happy if I never saw your face again."

Jack drew back as if he'd been slapped, but then his face hardened. She saw him transform from being remorseful to being nearly as angry as she was in a matter of seconds, and she hated him all the more for it.

"We were children," he pointed out. "You seem to have somehow forgotten that in all your angah."

"We were old enough to fall in love," Sarah answered darkly. "We were old enough to have to fight for ourselves and worry about whether our siblings were going to come home in one piece or not."

"So what? We still had our whole lives ahead of us. I wasn't going to be tied down here because of anyone or anything. I hated this city! You knew that."

"You were gone before you got on that train, Jack. You were gone long before then."

"What does that even mean?!" It was his turn to throw his hands up in the air. "Just because you've decided to become this bitter old spinster doesn't mean you have to drag everyone else down with you."

Sarah sputtered, her anger clouding her ability to even come up with a worthy retort. "You're a bastard, Jack."

"Well at least I've managed to do something with my life since then! What have you done, Sarah? Sit in your home, twiddling your thumbs, until you had the chance to lash back at me in the way you think I deserve?" Jack snarled, closing the distance between them. "You're just the same as when I left you. You haven't changed a bit. Still living with your parents and your little brother. What's the matter? Couldn't find a man? Couldn't find one who would take you?"

Sarah slapped him with all the force she could harness. He stumbled backward as more tears clouded her vision. It felt as if he had twisted a knife in her stomach.

"How dare you?!" she seethed. She took a few steps back. She didn't recognize this man anymore. "Dammit, Jack. I worshipped you. And I hate myself for that. I hate myself for letting you crush me the way you did. . . I cried for weeks after you left. You and I may not have been together then, but if you had asked, I wouldn't have thought twice about hopping on that train with you. I would have joined you without reservation." She shook her head in disgust and the man who stood before her. "I would have done _anything_ for you and you left us all without a word."

She stepped away and looked out over the skyline, mostly so she wouldn't have to look at him anymore, but also because she was beginning to calm down and she wanted to make sure what she said next was perfectly coherent. "I was still in love with you then. I was still in love with you for months, even years, after you left. But you know what? That taught me something. It taught me that nothing was worth the pain you put me through. I'll never let _anyone_ hurt me like that again. Especially not you. And don't you dare act like you know me or why I do what I do -or even what I'm doing with my life- because you don't. You've never known me. You knew what you wanted me to be."

She turned back to look at him and felt a twinge of satisfaction as she saw that he was still reeling from the force of her words. She gave him a cold look. "Now get the fuck off of my roof." Then she added, almost as an afterthought, "And do your best to stay out of my life while you're at it."

When she turned back toward the skyline, silence hung in the air tensely as minutes rolled by and neither of them moved. Sarah refused to turn back toward him and sate her curiosity about how he was taking her little monologue. Finally, the crunch of his footsteps told her he was obeying. He made his way to the fire escape and slowly made his way back down to the family that waited for him.

Sarah waited until she heard the window close behind him before she crumbled. She sank to her knees and let the tears flow freely this time.


	27. Everything

_**Author's Note: If any of y'all are on Pinterest, I wanted to let you know that I've recently started a new board that's basically inspiration for this series. It has a bunch of different pins about Newsies as well as a few representations that match some of my OC's pretty closely (including one almost perfect picture of Al, as well as a little girl and boy that look very near how I picture Lily and Collin). I just figured I would go ahead an let y'all know in case you wanted to check it out. My username there is also Kirsten Erin and it'll be under the board entitled "More Than Blood Inspiration." **_

**Chapter 27- Everything**

When Jack reentered the apartment building, his face told them everything. He didn't need to speak to fill everyone in on what had just taken place on the roof. He sought out the eyes of his sister and gave her this hopeless look before shrugging his shoulders and turning to the Jacobs to tell them he was sorry, but he was ready to go home for the night.

Les caught his eye long enough to give him the darkest glare she had ever seen him give, before he hightailed it out of the room. Al heard the window slam shut behind him and understood the boy was going to the roof to comfort his sister. She had always admired the fact that Les seemed to know exactly what to say to calm the people he was closest to, even if he had still turned out as hotheaded as a boy could be.

David looked like he didn't know how to react. That was probably the hardest part about him being in this situation. The man he was supposed to be angry with was both his brother-in-law and best friend. He couldn't beat the hell out of him, even if he wanted to. Al took his hand and went to say their goodbyes to Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs while Race and Jack got the children wrapped up in their jackets and ready to go.

When they had finished saying their goodbyes, Al leaned over to her husband, who was stiffly holding her hand and looking like he was worlds away. "You can go up to her if you want, make sure she's okay. We'll wait for ya," she whispered.

"I don't know that she wants me to."

"Les hasn't come back down yet. That's a good sign that she didn't turn him away."

"Les is different."

"Les is even more irritatin' than you are," Al pointed out, a hint of a smile on her lips as she said it. "Get up there. Besides, I have my own brother I need to talk to." She turned toward Esther and switched from whispering to talking. "Actually, we'll stay a few minutes. Do you mind helping Race watch the kids while I have a word with my bruddah?"

"Of course, dear."

Jack's head shot up and he gave her that wide-eyed deer-in-the-headlights look she had been expecting. She raised an eyebrow in response. He wasn't about to get out of this. David was already well out the window by the time she dragged her brother out the front door.

She closed the door gently behind her.

"You wanna tell me what happened up there?"

"No."

"Jack, seriously."

"I am being serious," he answered, the edge and frustration seeping into his voice. "Look, I don't have to come out here and get lectured by you. Don't act like you're just being sisterly. I know you've already taken her side!"

"This isn't about takin' sides, Jack!" Al shot back, surprised and irritated at her brother's reaction.

"Of course it's about sides!" he answered angrily. "So why don't you go back inside an' comfort her and your husband an' stop actin' like you care."

"Jack! How can you say somethin' like that? Don't you dare make me out to be the bad guy here!" She pushed off the wall she had been leaning against and grabbed his arm. He tried to shake her off, but she held firm and moved so she could get closer to his face. "Don't you dare question my loyalty, Jack Kelly. I've stood beside you through every _shitty_ thing you've ever done an' against every problem that's come your way. _I've_ nevah abandoned _you_."

This time he yanked away hard enough to break free. Al stumbled a little as she lost her balance, but managed to correct herself.

"See, there ya go, just like Sarah! You keep throwin' my mistakes in my face like I don't already know I did 'em!"

He slammed the back of his fist against the wall, hard enough to make the sound echo through the hallway, yet not hard enough to do any permanent damage. Al sucked her lips in through her teeth in an attempt to keep herself from saying something she would regret. She bit down, trying to force herself to keep her mouth shut. She was too angry right now to respond.

Jack glared at her. When she offered no answer, no response, he threw his hands up in the air. "I don't even know why I bothered coming back," he growled. "It sure as hell wasn't worth it."

Then he threw open the door and barked for Lily and Collin to come over. They must have sensed the tension in his voice because they were out the door in a matter of seconds. Al just stood and watched them leave, Jack's face still red as he stomped down the stairwell.

There was a moment of silence and then Racetrack poked his head out the door. Al didn't know what her face looked like, but she assumed that whatever her expression, it was enough for Race to be fully aware that she was dangerously close to tears. He rushed out of the door and immediately wrapped his arms around her.

"I heard the two of ya yelling."

"Who didn't?" Al answered, the sound muffled as she buried her face in her friend's shoulder.

He held her for a few seconds more before pulling back. "Looks like they went ahead of you. Want me to go get David?"

"No, I'll wait for him," she answered, still trying to regain her composure. She felt angry and drained, upset and exhausted, all at once. "You go catch up with Jack. He won't be watching the streets as well if he's angry. I don't want him or the kids gettin' hoit because he's too hotheaded for his own good."

Racetrack nodded, placed a kiss on her forehead, and then ran down the stairs to catch up with the others.

Trudging her way back into the apartment, Al tried to look more upbeat than she felt as she collapsed onto the chair beside the sofa. Esther was already making her tea, which she shoved into her daughter-in-law's hands as soon as it was ready. The rest she left on the stove, ready to be served to her three children when they came down from the roof.

No one spoke, none of them having much to say, but as soon as she and Meyer finished cleaning the remnants of dinner away, they sat on the sofa together, Meyer reading the paper while Esther sipped at her tea.

Al retreated into her thoughts and, after a few minutes, felt Esther reach over to squeeze her hand. Lifting her head, she saw David's mother looking at her softly.

"It'll all work out, honey. These things always do."

And then they went back to their silence.

That was one of the things Al appreciated most about David's parents. They seemed to always sense what would help her most- whether they should distract her with talking or let her sit with her thoughts. Esther, in particular, had always been a comforting presence to Al. She supposed that was where Sarah learned to nurture the people she loved so effectively. Esther seemed to exude peacefulness and a calming maternal feeling Al had never experienced before she got to know Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs.

It was almost comical when she contrasted her current feelings for the two to when she had first met them. They had always been kind and very giving, but their concern for the well-being of their sons had overshadowed that the first few times they interacted. After all, their fears hadn't been unfounded. David, Les, and even Sarah had managed to find themselves in more than a few particularly dangerous situations as a direct result of being friends with the Kelly siblings. Even now, the unhappiness of all three of their children could be placed solely upon the shoulders of her dear brother.

Al sighed softly and pushed herself off the chair to wash her mug and put it away.

Esther looked like she wanted to protest, but the woman had long since learned that no matter how many times she insisted that she could take care of Al's dishes, she wasn't going to win that one.

She was placing the mug on the drying rack when David and Les came back in through the window.

"Should've known Mama would make tea," Les commented, taking the mug Al had just finished cleaning and using it as his own.

"Jack already left?" David asked, noticing the distinctly smaller number of people in the room.

Al nodded. "Sarah okay?"

"She's doin' alright. She just needs some space right now." Her husband shrugged. "Can't say I blame her."

He reached forward and pulled her into his arms while Les retreated into his bedroom. His breath tickled her ear as he breathed her in.

"Are _you_ okay?" he mumbled into her hair.

She nodded against his chest, wondering if he was thinking back to when Sarah and Jack first broke up and Al had her meltdown on the very same roof where Sarah now sat. "I'm fine. Just tired."

He took her face in his hands and looked at her hard. "Alison-"

"Not right now," she answered wearily, looking pointedly to her right. David followed her eyes and saw that his parents were watching them with concern. He slowly dropped his hands and went to bid the two of them a good night.

* * *

Jack had been entirely silent the whole way home. He had hardly acknowledged anyone except to scoop Collin up onto his shoulders when the boy started complaining that he couldn't walk any further. Racetrack had knelt down and let Lily climb onto his back a couple minutes later, after she had yawned for the fifth time in less than two minutes. Now she was out cold on his right shoulder and Collin's head was bobbing so drastically that Race was a little worried he would fall right off Jack's shoulders.

Racetrack watched Jack as they walked, searching his face for a sign of what it was he was thinking, trying to read his thoughts from the lines on his face. The man was usually an open book, you could read the emotions on him like a well-written novel, but there were also times like these: times where Racetrack didn't know what to make of his friend. All Race wanted to do was help, but he wasn't sure how to go about doing that. Would Jack benefit more from silence or talking it out? It was often hard to tell.

"You okay?" Racetrack asked quietly as he took a quick inventory of the area around him. There were a few random people making their way home, just as the four of them were. Nothing suspicious. He went back to studying his friend's face. It would appear that he hadn't heard him. Racetrack wasn't at all surprised. Jack looked to be submerged in some very heavy thoughts. Racetrack coughed and spoke again, "What's going on in that head of yours?"

Jack shook himself, as if he were pulling himself out of the water. "I wouldn't know where to start, " he answered painfully.

"Start wherever you need to. I'll follow."

Jack gave his longtime friend a half-hearted smile, as if he was almost saddened by Racetrack's concern. He went silent again, for a long while. Racetrack had given up on getting anything out of him tonight and had resigned himself to trying again in the morning when Jack finally did find the place from which he would start.

"Tell me what happened . . . when I left."

"What do you mean?"

Jack signed and picked at the collar of his shirt with his free hand. "I mean, I left a week after Al and Davy got married. I didn't send word of my whereabouts until I reached Texas an' Al sent me a letter that would've taken my head off if it could. David even sent one afterward that told me to ignore it, that she was just angry and scared." He paused to stifle a yawn. "Sarah and I hadn't talked in months and we didn't make any exceptions during the wedding or after, but she said . . . she said she would've come with me if I'd asked. She said she was heartbroken."

Racetrack looked away, remembering that time as vividly as he could have imagined.

"You were there. You must have seen their reactions." Jack looked at Racetrack with a mixture of strength and fear, as if he were preparing to be hit by the strongest of waves. "Tell me what happened. Tell me everything."

Racetrack began to wish that he hadn't said anything to begin with. He knew if he was going to answer this, he would need to be completely honest. There would have to be no sugar coating to make it hurt less. He wouldn't tell it the way Al would tell it, which was clearly why Jack had asked him instead of his sister. Jack wanted to know the truth and if he was going to hear anything, Racetrack would make certain that the truth was what he heard.

They were nearing the apartment now and it was suggested that they put the children to sleep before they began the discussion. Racetrack lit up a cigar and stood outside while Jack put his little ones in bed, tucked them in, and kissed them goodnight.

He was glad for the time to prepare what he had to say. Racetrack wasn't usually the type to avoid conflict, even if it was his friends, but he knew sensitive material when he saw it and this was about as sensitive as it got. Since the day Racetrack met Jack, it had always been clear that Jack's prime goal was to protect his sister. He had always been protective of the people he loved and the most devastating thing you could tell him was that he had failed to do that.

Jack stepped outside, silent as he could manage, walking as if he were stepping on eggshells. He was still bracing himself, anticipating the emotional blow that Racetrack had in store for him.

Jack lit up a cigarette from his own pocket and inhaled deeply. He exhaled and scuffed his foot against the ground. "I shouldn't have stormed out. Al and David are walking home on their own now." He started to look anxious and Racetrack was reminded of the night when Al and David were jumped on their way home from a date and it was Jack's brotherly concern that prompted them to search for the two, only to find each of them in their own bloody puddle in an alley a few streets away from the dance hall.

Racetrack started to feel sick. "I'm sure they're fine," he answered nonchalantly, not wanting to voice his own misgivings.

Figuring the best way to keep his and Jack's mind from wandering to a place neither of them wanted to go was to dive into his narrative of the effects of Jack's leaving on the people he cared about, Racetrack plunged ahead.

"The night you left, we all thought you had just wandered off and decided to take care of some business that you hadn't bothered telling us about. After all, that's not too out of character for you. It was when no one saw hide nor hair of you after two days that she really started to panic. She questioned everyone, even marched over to Brooklyn in hopes of finding something out. She thought Spot might know somethin'.

"Skittery was the first to suggest that you had left, though we had all been suspecting it. I don't think anyone wanted to suggest it."

Racetrack paused to take another long drag of his cigar. Jack flicked his cigarette enough to let some of the ashes fall on his own boot.

"She knew I don't do goodbyes."

"Sometimes goodbyes are more important for the people bein' left behind than the person who is leaving," Racetrack answered softly. "Anyway, she didn't want to believe it. She didn't think you would do that to 'er. She figured you'd at least leave a note, leave some kind of indication that you were alright. The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that something had happened to you."

Jack looked sick. He let his cigarette drop as it burned past the quick. "She didn't," he whispered with a bit of a groan.

"Unfortunately, she did. She had us all searching for you as often as she could manage and David had one hell of a time dragging his new wife home at night. Even when she did come home, he said she wasn't present. She just paced and worried and all but tore her hair out trying to convince herself that you couldn't be dead- that she would know."

Jack swore vehemently and turned away. "I really fucked things up, didn't I?""

Racetrack didn't answer and he really didn't need to. His silence said everything.

"I'm sure he's just tired," David's voice wafted up from a lower level of the stairwell a few feet away from them. His voice floated up through the night air, bouncing up the steps to warn of their approach.

There was no answer from Al. Jack and Race looked at each other, both fully aware that the latter was the "he" to which they were referring. As they stepped off the stairwell onto the landing, Racetrack watched as David steeled himself upon laying eyes on Jack. Al looked like she was too exhausted to even react.

"Jack," David started as they neared. "You owe your sister an-"

Jack was already past the two of them and had wrapped his sister in a bear hug before David even finished his sentence.

"I'm sorry, Ali. I'm so sorry!" he spoke into her hair. He was holding onto her like she was afraid she would disappear (or, as Racetrack was much more apt to suspect, start throwing punches). "I didn't mean to treat ya bad. I'm sorry. I know I fucked it all up."

"Shh. It's alright," Al answered, clearly relieved. She looked over at Racetrack, "What've you been tellin' 'im?" He could see the mixture of both happiness and suspicion in her eyes and decided not to risk telling her too much.

"Nothin' much. We've just been havin' a chat." Racetrack fiddled with his cigarette. "He did most o' the talking."

Jack nodded against his sister's hair and David started to smile. It was nice to have that bit of the conflict resolved, though it was going to be awkward with Sarah for a while.

Racetrack shrugged internally. As long as they could keep Sarah and Jack away from each other as much as possible, they wouldn't have much to worry about at all.


End file.
